DragonBorn
by binayak95
Summary: A fanfic wherein Eragon and Murtagh are DragonBorn: men born with the souls of dragons. Set before the Fall. A cross of IC and Elder scrolls V.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is a new fanfic that I had been thinking of for a long time. It's a cross between IC and Elder Scrolls:Skyrim. Those of you who haven't played the game, don't worry. I will explain everything in detail.  
Here Eragon and Murtagh are twins born to Brom and Selena. Like in my other story, they are both princes and Carvahall does exist. The story begins before the events of the Fall. Here the Fall wont actually occur. The brothers will work hard to stop it and will manage to save some riders. Arya will make an appearance as will some other characters and there will be ExA as well.**

**Chapter 1: Legends**

"Eragon, what are you doing? If we get caught, its off to the stables with us," a young boy whispered to his twin as the two rummaged around in the darkness of the Library of the western tower of Castle Carvahall.

"Stop being a worrywart, Murtagh. We will be fine as long as you keep quiet. Do you want to know the stories or not," the brother replied, "and seeing as none of the elders are willing to tell us anything, I say we learn of them ourselves."

Eragon could see his brother's brow furrowing, well almost, the darkness in the room wasn't abated that much by the red werelight he held aloft in his left hand.

"Fine, fine but if anybody asks, its on your head."

"Traitor" Eragon grumbled but led onwards towards the far wall on the other side, which were stacked full of books and scrolls.

Murtagh brought a ladder from where it was resting against the wall and leaned it against the wooden shelves.

"Which book do you think will have what we are searching for?" he whispered.

"Try one of the old books on the Dragon War. I have also heard that the Domir abr Wyrda has a true account," Eragon replied in an equally low voice.

Murtagh ran his finger through the spines of old books, their gold and silver letters emitting a strange glow in the red werelight that his brother held aloft in his hand.

"What about this one: _Dragonborn _by Arngeir Greybeard?" Murtagh asked.

"Arngeir is one of the old monks of the Order! That must be a good source. Bring it to the table over there and quickly before anyone comes up from the party in the Hall."

The two brothers eagerly carried the thick book between them to one of the many reading tables scattered in the circular room.

Setting the dusty tome on the table, Murtagh whispered, "_brisingr" _lighting a few candles. The golden light revealed the red lettering on the cover, "_DragonBorn"._ Sharing an excited glance with his brother, he opened the book.

"WHAT DO YOU TWO THINK YOU ARE DOING?" a voice thundered making the twins jump in fright.

"_Istalri!" _the voice muttered and the whole room became awash with soft warm light revealing an angry old and bearded man and his two frightened pupils.

"OFF TO NO GOOD AGAIN ARE WE? Lets see what you've got here! OH! Wait, so…." the old man was interrupted by the twins.

"Sorry Master Tenga. Its all my fa…fault, I con…convinced Murtagh to come along. Don't punish him." Eragon said.

"No, Master. I ag…agreed to come along be…because I wanted to do so."

Tenga's face softened as he looked at the brothers exchanging confused looks. In a kind voice, he asked, "what were you doing with this old book? I thought you had come up to look at the weapons in the armory."

Perhaps realizing that they wont likely be punished, Eragon replied, "We wanted to know of the stories of our namesakes. But since nobody would tell us, I thought we could come here and read it from one of the books."

"Well you certainly chose a good book! How old are the two of you?" Tenga said.

Eyebrows rising in confusion, the brothers replied together, "twelve, sir."

"Twelve, hmm? A bit young but perhaps that is the whim of Lord Akatosh. You wanted to know the story then? Fine! I will tell you of a story the likes of which you'll never hear again. But first the both of you must get comfortable, for it is an awfully long one."

Taking each of their hands, the old man guided them to his bedroom two floors above. Once the twins were seated on comfortable seats, he gave them two glasses of warm milk, sweetened with hone. The old man began.

"Well then, before I begin I want to know how much do the two of you know of the Great Dragon War?"

Eragon answered, "the Dragon War was fought seven thousand years ago in the First Era by an alliance of Men, Wood-Elves and Dragons against Alduin, the Tyrant."

"The men were led by Murtagh Dovahkiin and the Elves were led by Eragon Shrutgal and his bond, Bid'daum while the rebel dragons were led by Paarthunax, brother of Alduin, " Murtagh picked up.

"In the last great battle atop the Throat of the World, Alduin was defeated and slain by Eragon and Murtagh. Eragon went on to create the Order of the Riders while Murtagh founded the Empire and brought peace and prosperity to all of Alagaesia." Eragon said.

"Good good. You remember well. But the true story is much more complicated and its beginnings lie far in the distant past and its end has yet to come," Tenga said, "to truly understand this story, you must know of its origins. This land that we call Alagaesia was originally inhabited by Dragons, Werecats, Dwarves and the Grey Folk."

"The Snow-Elves!" Eragon exclaimed.

"Yes they are indeed called such by today's scholars."

"Aren't werecats like other were-creatures?" Murtagh asked.

Tenga shook his head, "not at all. Werecats are a completely independent race. Werewolves are men or elves who have either been blessed or cursed by Hircine, the Lord of the Hunt."

"What do you mean?" Eragon asked.

"You see there are two ways a werewolf is created. If a warrior worships Hircine and He blesses him, then that person can chose to transform. In other words, he is in complete control of his wolf-form. But if Hircine has cursed you, then when you transform, you become a mindless-beast, savage and a danger to all. But we digress, we were talking of the original inhabitants of Alagaesia. The Dragons were all created by Lord Akatosh, the Divine of Time. His greatest and worst creation was Alduin. The Grey Folk were an extremely powerful and wise race that mysteriously disappeared a few thousand years before the events of the Dragon War. The Dwarfs were just the same as they are now. The Wood-Elves came here from their home continent nine thousand years ago, seeking refuge from their High-Elf oppressors, they were followed here by the Urgals. Around the same time, man came to Alagaesia for the first time, led by Ysgrammor and his five hundred Companions, seeking a land where they could be safe from the Ra'zac. Eventually thousands more came and settled all of this land, but Ysgrammor and his Companions built their great Mead-Hall here in Carvahall: Jorravaskr, where to this day Companions live and fight for Honour.

Now, Ysgrammor's people believed, rightly so, that dragons were majestic and noble creatures. In their awe of the dragons, some took to worshipping them, and one dragon was worshipped more than all others."

"Alduin," Eragon whispered, awe clearly visible on his and Murtagh's faces.

"Aye, Alduin. Over time, he and the dragons that followed him became obsessed with their power, they began to believe that it was their right to do as they please, burn villages and settlements, devour the very souls of our dead, even ransack entire towns, in search of a worthy soul. It is not lightly said that power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Eventually the people tired of the excesses of the dragons. Most dragons themselves didn't like what Alduin was doing, his ways were against the wishes of their creator. Dragons had been created by Akatosh to prevent any race from overstepping its boundaries and yet the dragons themselves had become tyrants. So, in the years 51 of the First Era, Paarthunax, brother of Alduin and wisest of all dragons flew here to meet with Murtagh Dovahkiin, High King of the Spine and Emperor of all Alagaesia. He suggested that the humans and elves revolt and declare war against Alduin. Murtagh was nervous, of that you can be sure, for who can stand upto the power of a dragon?"

"Excuse me, but what exactly is a dragon's power?" Murtagh asked.

"Dragons are immortal creatures, blessed with a power unique to them and them alone. Other races can use magic in the form of the Ancient Language, but the dragons have no need for such crude methods. A dragon can use its voice, to manipulate the elements themselves! Imagine a torrent of flames created by your mere voice, imagine slowing down time, imagine creating a tornado!"

"That is impressive! All dragons have this ability?" Eragon said.

"Aye. But the older a dragon gets, the more powerful its thu'um or shout becomes. So never take on an ancient dragon, my young students! Anyway, Murtagh is convinced that something or the other can be done to defeat the dragons, so he calls on his old tutor, a wise man known as Jurgen Windcaller. Jurgen tells the King of a legend of a man born with the soul of a dragon, imagine that! A mere mortal born with the soul of a dragon."

"The _DragonBorn_" the brothers said together, their voices reduced to a whisper in awe.

"Aye, the DragonBorn or the _Dovahkiin_ in the dragon tongue. Intrigued, the King asks Jurgen as to how to know if someone is a dragonborn or not? In response, Jurgen writes down on a parchment three words in the dragon tongue and shows it to the King, he said that if any person could understand the words without having learned the dragon tongue and then could go onto use them as a shout, then that person would be a dragonborn. And lo and behold, the King understood those words and he used them in the form of a shout!."

"Wait a minute, how did Jurgen Windcaller know the dragontongue?" Eragon asked.

"Jurgen was a very very old scholar who had travelled into the depths of the old Grey-Folk ruins and had climbed the highest peaks of the Spine in search of knowledge. Perhaps a dragon taught him the language, but we'll never know for sure. Continuing, Murtagh was now Dovahkiin, as soon as this came to light, the Wood-Elves readily agreed to join the humans in a bid for freedom from Alduin."

"Where does Eragon come in?" Murtagh asked.

"There lies the rub. In the first few years of the war, Alduin never really considered the alliance a serious threat. Very few dragons had joined Paarthunax in fear of Alduin. Prince Eragon of the Wood-Elf nation sought to change that. He wanted to send a message to Alduin and the other dragons, so he organized a raid on a dragon nesting site, which was home to dragons loyal to Alduin. The Nightingales attacked the…"

"The Nightingales! I didn't know that they had played a role in the War!" Eragon exclaimed.

"Many don't. Do you think that the Divines were happy with what Alduin was doing? Lady Nocturnal, the Goddess of Stealth and Shadows ordered her warriors, the Nightingales to help the Alliance in all possible manner. In fact, they still help the Riders. As I was saying the Nightingales attacked in the hour before dawn, when the night is at its darkness. They slaughtered dozens of dragons and smashed hundreds of eggs and yet for some reason Prince Eragon couldn't destroy this one white egg that he had stumbled upon. Instead he had taken it home, where it hatched and the dragonling bonded with Eragon making them the first rider-dragon pair."

"I have never understood this part, how could Eragon have bonded with a dragon? The very idea of sharing your soul with a dragon is inconceivable. It is well known that the Spectral Dragon had to create special magic to allow the bond. But the spectral dragon was a gift from the dragons after the War, wasn't it? So how could have Eragon and Bid'daum have bonded?" Eragon asked, a look of absolute perplexity on his face.

Tenga smiled widely as he replied, "because Eragon too was Dovahkiin."

"WHAT?" the brothers asked together.

"Yes, it had been suspected for a long time but proof has now been unearthed among the riders' archives on Doru Araeba that Eragon was indeed a DragonBorn. So, on with the story: the rebel dragons now took Eragon, Bid'daum and Murtagh under their wing and trained them in the use of the thu'um. Alduin had finally woken up to the threat of the Alliance. He and his supporters attacked and ransacked the city of Ceunon, killing all of its inhabitants. Enraged Murtagh and Eragon led their armies to High Hrothgar were they were joined by Paarthunax and the dragons who had joined him. Together, the Alliance advanced on Alduin's home: Bonestrewn Crest and their fought him in a bitter fight to the end. A battle of that proportion has never been seen since, thousands of soldiers died and many hundreds of dragons were killed but finally, the Dovahkiin used the combined strength of their thu'um to defeat Alduin and banished him to Oblivion."

"Banished? Not killed?" Murtagh asked.

"Aye, Alduin was never slain, his soul lives on like all other dragons, But he can't return to this plane, the shout prevents it from happening. Whether or not he will ever return is a question that only time will answer. Goodness gracious, its late! Your father and mother will be most upset with me if they find out that I kept the two of you awake for so long! You must promise me that you wont tell them!" Tenga said.

"We Promise. Not a word!" Eragon said as the brothers dashed off to their rooms. Tenga smiled fondly at their retreating backs but his smile faded as he returned to the library. The book was glowing bright red.

**So what so you think? Don't worry I will not stop my other story, both will continue hand in hand.**


	2. Chapter 2: Destiny

**AN: Alright folks. Some background info:**

**Factions:**

**Kingdom of Carvahall: **the northern kingdom is a federation of sorts, with High King Garrow as the current ruler. Covers most of the northern spine, with Narda, Ceunon and Carvahall as its main cities. Several dozen of smaller towns and castles are also present. Chief military strength are its magicians, which are stronger and more numerous than average human kingdoms and its legendary heavy cavalry corps. Borders the Brodding Kingdom to the south and Du Weldervarden to the east. Has very good relations with the elves.

**Kingdom of Surda: **the southernmost kingdom, bordering the sea to the south and the Hadarac desert to the east and the Brodding Kingdom to the north. A prosperous sea-faring kingdom, with a powerful navy and famed light cavalry. Currently ruled by King Orrin of House Langfeld. Is allied to the Brodding Kingdom. Chief cities are Aberon, Dauth, Aroughs and Cithri.

**Brodding Kingdom: **the central kingdom, ruled by King Ulric, now Emperor of the Empire which comprises of all three human kingdoms. Prosperous and rich on trade with elves and dwarves. Famed for its infantry.

**Wood-Elves: **control all of Du-Weldervarden, ruled by Evandar Konungr and Islanzadi Drotting, the elves are immortal and extremely powerful in magic and physical strength, fight primarily as archers and swordsmen, though some cavalry regiments from Carvahall fight for them while some squadrons of elven archers fight with the former. Dislike the dwarfs

**Dwarven Nation: **a conglomerate of several clans, the dwarven nation often appears weak and divided to the outsider, but are extremely united when it comes to matters of security and honor. Have good relations with the Empire but greatly distrust the elves.

**Urgals: **witha culture based on honor and valor in combat, the Urgals are violent and war-mongering, but are at the sametime trustworthy and dignified. No single ruler, rather a clanmoot governs their foreign policy. Live in the wildlands of the Spine.

**Order of Shrutugal: **the dragon rider order, keeper of the peace and without doubt the most powerful of warriors in the whole land. Based in the islands of Vroengard, their capital city is Doru Araeba. But they have watchtowers and outposts all throughout the lands. Present grandmasters are Vrael and Umaroth.

**Order of Guardians: **an order of human mages and warriors, allied to the Riders, they help keep the peace and are keepers of secrets millennia old. They have two branches:

** Greybeards: **scholars and mages, the greybeards are the only ones who know the dragon tongue(apart from the dragons themselves), they are the record keepers of the order and guide the knights of the order. Present grandmaster is Paarthunax.

** Blades: **these are the military wing of the Order, led by Delphine.

**The Nightingales: **warriors of the goddess Nocturnal, the Nightingales are expert assassins and infiltrators, they fight from the shadows leave behind no trace. They are allied to the riders and the guardians. Led by Karliah.

**Aedra: **the divines of Alagaesia. The gods live in another plane of the universe known as Nirn, while the mortal plane is called Mundus. Most Aedra don't interfere with the lives of the mortals.

**Daedra: **also god-like beings who live in the planes of Oblivion. Unlike the Aedra, they love to interfere in the lives of mortals and most are considered evil, except for Nocturnal, Azura and Meridia, while others are definitely mad like Sheogorath and Sanguine.

**That's about it. Now onto the chapter:**

* * *

**Chapter 2:Destiny**

The seeds that had been planted in the minds of the twins on that fateful night sprouted quickly but manifested in very different ways. Eragon became obsessed with the legacy of the Dovahkiin and the riders. He knew that as the son of a rider, he had greater chances than normal at becoming a rider when he reached the age of twenty and thus became old enough to touch an egg, and thus devoted himself fully to become stronger in both magic and physical strength and skill with weapons. His entire day would be spent in either the Lists, training or in Tenga's library, learning all he could about the world and its workings; as a result he became sort of a recluse and lonely; others considered his behavior as strange and monastic. In the years that followed his knighting, from the age of sixteen until he was twenty, Eragon learned a great deal about life, while making rapid progress through the Levels of Learning of the Order of Guardians, but he appeared to take little overt interest in any of the great changes that were occurring in the world around him. He was the kind of young man that people think of as being driven, impelled by a force that sets him apart and spurs him constantly to succeed in everything he attempts. Thus, when it came to his knightly responsibilities he fought like a lion, mastering sword, axe, dagger, mace, and spear, and even the composite bow, and was unbeatable either in the lists or in the butts, where his accuracy with the bow quickly became a matter for awe. At the same time, he maintained a constant and focused attention to his studies within the Order, spending far more time with his tutors and elders than he did with people his own age.

Commitment on such a scale carries a certain penalty in that it leaves little time for things that are considered unimportant. Had anyone thought to ask for Eragon's opinion, they might have been perplexed to discover that, at such an early age, he considered relaxation or leisurely behavior of any kind unimportant and frivolous. He had no interest in carousing with his fellow knights, and he made no secret of the fact that he found the drinking of ale, for the mere sake of drinking until one grew drunk, to be a useless, feckless pursuit. That earned him little liking among his peers. But Eragon felt that he had enough friends: his brother Murtagh and his cousin Roran Stronghammer were his dearest friend and he trio liked to call themselves the Carvahall triumvirate.

Murtagh on the other hand, had all that which Eragon didn't. He was popular among all knights and among the ladies of the court because of his amiable nature and affinity for mead. He was just as skilled as Eragon with the sword but he couldn't bother himself with reading the old tomes that his twin found so interesting. But where Eragon tended to be serious and single-minded to the point of sometimes appearing rigid and aloof, Murtagh was mercurial, with a sparkling wit; an irreverent, endearing, and never-failing sense of humor; and an in-exhaustible willingness to see another person's point of view. He could cut through a conversational impasse or an awkward moment with a single barbed comment that usually brought laughter and averted unpleasantness.

The third and eldest member of their triumvirate, as they liked to call themselves, was Roran Stronhammer, son of their mother's brother, King Garrow.

Eragon and Murtagh were almost identical, both were broad chested, tall and lanky and narrow waisted even as boys and had grown into adults without losing any of their boyish charm. The only difference between the twins was that Eragon had dark brown hair and warm brown eyes while Murtagh had black hair and gray eyes.

Roran, on the other hand, was an inch or two shorter and had thick musculature which was the envy of the twins, he had caramel hair and light brown eyes and was blunt and to the point, but honest and open in his thoughts and actions.

The one thing that the twins had to keep from Roran was their skill with magic, for the both of them had become extremely proficient and strong in manipulating magic, their strength rivaling that of full-fledged riders and this was something that was a source of great pride and perplexity for their parents and their teacher, Tenga. Roran, however wasn't gifted with magic and so tended to be critical of its use, so the brothers had no choice but to avoid raising the issue in his presence.

Thus, by the time the brothers entered their eighteenth year, having spent two years studying under the Greybeards, they had become formidable warriors, skilled with both the blade and the mind and had formed a unique bond on which they would rely heavily in the years to come to survive the starkest of odds.

On one fine summer morning the twins received a letter summoning them to Castle High Hrothgar, the headquarters of the Order of Guardians. Confused, the brothers left the very next day, travelling lightly and well armed for the week long journey to the very heart of the Spine was a dangerous one and not to be undertaken lightly.

When they arrived exhausted and weary, having had to fight off numerous packs of wolves and a couple of bears, the brothers took some time observing the stark beauty of the snow clad mountains and the massive castle which sat at its peak_._ As he approached the big bronze doors, Eragon felt a shiver of anticipation run up his spine. Not for the first time, he wondered why the Greybeards had summoned him and Murtagh all the way to High Hrothgar instead of any of the other Watchtowers and Castles that belonged to the Order and were closer and more convenient. Shrugging, he followed his brother into the castle. Little did he know that his life was about to change forever.

"Greetings Eragon and Murtagh, we have awaited your arrival for a long time," spoke one of several monks who emerged from the chambers inside the castle as the twins arrived in the central courtyard. The Greybeards wore long flowing grey robes and walked with a grace and pace that bespoke their wisdom. One of the men stepped forth and removing his hood, said, "I am Master Arngeir, and I am pleased to welcome the both of you, Dovahkiin."

* * *

_From the point where the previous chapter left off:_

_Tenga rushed to Throne room, his hands clutching the still glowing book. As he dashed through the central hallway, he paused long enough to order a guard to bear a message for the King, the Rider Brom and the King's sister, Selena. The guard rushed off and he continued on his way to the throne room. Once he arrived there, he weaved complex spells of warding around the room, making sure that the conversation that was about to take place couldn't be eavesdropped on. Then he scryed Master Arngeir, the head of his Order, and incidentally the author of the very book he held._

_Just as the spell was completed, the doors behind him opened behind him and the King, his sister and Brom came in._

"_What is happening Tenga? What has happened that you have labeled these letters 'Of Grave Importance'?", King Garrow asked as he and his relatives sat down on the several chairs that were scattered around the room. At the same time Master Arngeir appeared in the scrying mirror._

_Tenga spoke, "what I am about to say cannot leave the confines of this room, I beg of you to swear oaths of secrecy." He paused long enough for all of them to comply before resuming, "Master Arngeir had given me and several others, this book," he showed them the book, "each of these books have been carefully enchanted by Paarthunax to be able to detect a Dovahkiin, a __**DragonBorn**__. It is with great pleasure that I tell you that I have, after centuries of search, discovered a dragonborn."_

_The resulting chaos was predictable and after much effort, Tenga was finally able to tell the others of what had happened that evening and that he was convinced that both the brothers were Dovahkiin._

"_Two Dovahkiin? Two? Are you sure of this Tenga?" Master Arngeir asked of Tenga, suspicion and skepticism clearly visible in his features._

"_Absolutely, the glow was far too strong for one and even for two. Besides, I checked by casting a trace spell, the Shout recognizes both the brothers as Dovahkiin."_

"_Then….for the first time in seven thousand years, two Dovahkiin live at the same time," Arngeir turned to Selena, "you named them appropriately, Lady Selena. May I ask what made you name them such?"_

_The mother and father shared looks of pride, "it was your apprentice, Angela who read me my fortune from dragon bones and told me that I will bear twins and that both of my sons will be Dovahkiin. Since Eragon and Murtagh were the first pair of Dovahkiin, I thought it was only fitting that I name my children after them."_

_Arngeir nodded, "fitting indeed."_

_Garrow spoke for the first time after hearing the news, "this is a matter of grave import and brings me great joy to know that my nephews have the souls of dragons inside; but I must ask, now what?"_

"_A pertinent question, King Garrow, and one that I fear will not be easily answered. The training of a dragonborn is a matter that needs to be approached with a lot of caution for they wield great power and if their upbringing is deficient, they could end up causing a lot of damage to Alagaesia," Arngeir said._

"_I will keep watch on them until they are of the age of eighteen, I will train them and guide them as well as I can, then they must travel to High Hrothgar to be learn of their destiny and to know what it means to be Dovahkiin. Till then, this secret must be kept from them and from all others, even from Vrael and the Riders," Tenga said slowly._

_Brom nodded, "I see reason behind your proposal Tenga. I agree to it, but with mixed heart, for I had hoped that my sons will become riders one day, but that cannot be, for I will not allow them to become powerful enough to threaten everything that I and my brethren in the order stand for."_

"_An honorable choice, Lord Brom, but no one knows the whims of fate, if the brothers are destined to be riders, then they will be riders, no one, not me, not Vrael himself can prevent it from happening; the night grows late, today's tidings require a lot of attention from me and my fellow greybeards. I must go and consult with them, by your leave." Arngeir said as the mirror went black._

* * *

"How do you feel?" Murtagh asked, concerned for his brother. They were sitting in a Spartan bedroom that had been given to them after master Arngeir had explained how the Greybeards had come to know of them being Dragonborn. Eragon had adamantly refused to believe that he was so and protested vehemently until master Arngeir pulled out a sheet of paper on which was written, _fus rod ah _(force balance and push). The twins had immediately understood what was written and had gone on to demonstrate their first shout, creating an energy wave that literally pushed things out of the way.

"Angry, betrayed, hurt and yet jubilated and excited' came the curt reply. Murtagh flashed a wry grin, "I can surely understand that, but have you tried to think it from their point of view?"

Eragon hadn't thought of that, and he realized that the secrecy for the last six years had been justified, the knowledge that they were Dovahkiin would have been a terrible burden to shoulder at the age of twelve and their childhood would have been darkened. Instead they had spent the last few years preparing for their destiny, only they didn't know what it was. He sighed before replying, "you're right, they were justified in keeping this secret."

Murtagh smiled in reply, "well then lets go and meet master Arngeir and see what he has in store for us."

He nodded and followed his brother out of the room.

* * *

**So what do you folks think? I hope I managed to shed some light on the various forces that will play a role in this fanfic. **


	3. Chapter 3: Shrutugal

**AN: hi guys! Chapter 3 is up. This was a joy to write and I hope that I did justice. This fic has had over two-hundred views and only four reviews! Come on! **

**Dragonlord001: about the question of how dragons look. I have decided that the dragons here will be like the ones in skyrim, i.e two hind legs and two wings. Also the dragons here will not grow indefinitely, that simply didn't make sense! The largest they could become is around the size of Glaedr. And the dragons take only one mate for life!**

**Aegis: Thanks man! I thought that I had misspelled it, I will correct it later on**

**I tried to paste some html links here for picks of Eragon's and Murtagh's awesome weapons and armor but for some reason the links don't work. So I'll tell you the keywords to google instead. Ofcourse, this is for those guys who haven't played the game.**

**Eragon's greatsword: Google Daedric Greatsword**

**Eragon's and Murtagh's swords: Daedric sword**

**Eragon's and Murtagh's armor: Nightingale armor**

**Eragon's and Murtagh's bows: Nightingale bow**

**Paarthunax: Paarthurnax**

**Castle High Hrothgar: High Hrothgar**

**Arngeir: ****Arngeir**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Shrutugal**

Eragon crept forward slowly, his black Nightingale leather armour and hood rendering him and Murtagh invisible against the moonless sky. They were deep in the badlands of Hadarac desert, sprawled on their bellies on top of a sand dune in the shape of the crescent moon; in the concave side of it, was an opening in the ground leading to what Eragon could only speculate was an underground complex, a hideout for the necromancers. They had been sent out to hunt down a group of Necromancers who had been terrorizing remote villages of the empire, defiling the graveyards, stealing the honored dead bodies. As a Nightingale and a Knight of the Order, it was his and his brother's sworn duty to eliminate such marauders. As he looked towards Murtagh, Eragon reminisced over all that had happened in the last two and a half years.

He and Murtagh had undergone great changes in the last two years, after learning that they were dragonborn. Arngeir advised that the twins underwent trials which would increase their skill, maturity and wisdom before they could progress further and learn complicated shouts from Paarthurnax himself. Thus, they spent the first year as Blades, at Sky Haven Temple close to Narda, learning difficult Parkour techniques and strengthening their mind and body to heights previously unthought-of by either of them. Every now and then, the twins would receive a letter, sent by Arngeir containing passages written completely in dragon runes. Each passage would be a story containing morals of great significance or they would be philosophical in nature, debating the nature of the elements, of time and of magic. If the twins really understood all that was written in the letter, then a new shout would have been revealed to them.

By the time of the second year, their very bodies began to show changes, further proof of being dragonborn. Their faces became more angular, more predatory, more dragonic. Their already muscular bodies became even more pronounced and leaner and they could jump great heights and run as fast as horses and had great strength in their limbs. Their vision, hearing and sense of smell also increased several fold. Their spellcasting became stronger as well, the twins rarely had to depend on the Ancient Language to cast spells, often instinct would kick in and the spells would take effect instantaneously. Eragon's eyes would often flash a vibrant blue and Murtagh's a blood red during these moments. They also perfected their styles of fighting, Murtagh preferred to dual wield and was invincible whenever he did so, while Eragon preferred to have a sword and a shield while fighting and it was impossible to get past his defense whenever he had a shield. Eragon also mastered the greatsword and wielded with a speed and grace that bespoke his unnatural strength.

Delphine observed their increased skills and remarked that it would be better if they were to move on for she could teach them no more and was loath to let their skills go waste because Arngeir was too scared to let them loose. She sent them to Karliah, leader of the Nightingales bearing gifts. To Murtagh, she gave a pair of Daedric swords; to Eragon, she gave a Daedric sword, a daedric greatsword and a kite shield enchanted to block hostile spells. So, as the twins turned twenty, they found themselves in Nightingale Hall, located in a hidden valley deep in the forests of Du Weldervarden, being tutored by Karliah, an elf, in the art of stealth and infiltration. They learned quickly and eventually even mastered the skill to a point where it became impossible to spot either of them at noon unless they willed it. And as their training progressed, they kept receiving the letters from Arngeir.

After a year at the Nightingale Hall, Karliah too declared them masters in the art of infiltration and stealth and gifted them with the Armour of Nightingale. In addition she gave each of them Nightingale bows, enchanted to paralyze their targets.

The twins then returned to High Hrothgar, to Arngeir where they became full Knights of the Order. They spent much of their time thence roaming the lands, helping the riders here and there and dealing with any problems, all the while waiting patiently for the day Paarthunax would summon them.

Returning to the present, Eragon observed the movements of the necromancers below the crest, they were starting to move with great alacrity, something was clearly happening down there. He cast a spell to increase his hearing and asked Murtagh to do the same.

"Careful, the Lord doesn't tolerate tardiness."

"Yes, yes, do you know when his highness will come out."

"Aye, in a matter of minutes."

_Whom are they referring to as 'Lord'? _Murtagh asked.

_I don't know, maybe the one who is organizing this gang? _Eragon replied. _I would suggest activating the spell of invisibility on our cloaks._

Murtagh agreed and both brothers whispered _frethya_, activating the enchantment built into their armour, which not only turned them invisible but muffled their movements. Approaching closer, the brothers waited for whatever was to come.

A few minutes of silent, then the twins heard faint 'thud's echoing from within the depths of the caves, as time went by, the sounds became louder and closer too. Anxiety gripped Eragon, his first thought was that they were facing rogue dragons, but that didn't make sense because dragons never lived in underground caves, they much preferred the mountains of the Spine and Beor fells. Several more minutes flew by before a large dragon-like creature emerged. More like a bat than a dragon, Eragon thought. It had black leatherous skin all over its body, a lone three-four feet long beak and black lidless eyes.

_Lethrblaka! _Eragon warned Murtagh.

_And a Ra'zac _he replied.

Eragon looked and sure enough, a Razac was walking alongside its parent.

A few moments later, yet another pair of Ra'zac and Lethrblaka emerged. _So that's why those necromancers where stealing the dead bodies, to feed the Lethrblaka and the Ra'zac. Now what do we do? _Murtagh said.

_We can't let them go. But we don't have the strength to do anything about it, unless we use our thu'um._ Eragon replied.

_Very well then, lets do it!_

_Are you sure? Think about it, we have kept our identities a secret so far and with good reason. If we do use our thu'um then we would have to make sure that no survivors live to tell the tale._

Eragon could feel Murtagh's confusion from his mind, he understood the reasoning behind his argument but at the same time, he was hot-headed enough to want to go through with it nonetheless. Finally, he sighed aloud and said, _if only we had…._

An ear-splitting roar interrupted him as two dragons swept down from the clouds above, white and blue fires emitting from their fearsome maws as they straightened from their dives and made a couple of high speed passes over the camp. Eragon could hear the words the dragon had used, ringing in his mind. _Yol toor shul._ (Fire Inferno Sun)

No one had expected such a dramatic development but the twins were quick to use it to their advantage, releasing their own shouts. Together they yelled the same three words.

"_Yol toor shul"_

Two massive streams of fire, one bright blue and blood red twisted around each other and raced out towards the two lethrblaka, hitting them smack in their chests, burning them and slamming them into the ground. The dragons meanwhile had turned around yet again and attacked the lethrblaka, tearing into them with their jaws and claws. The brothers had meanwhile started firing off arrows towards the various necromancers, killing most.

Eragon spotted the two ra'zac cornering one single man, who appeared to jumped down from the blue dragon. _ A rider, _he said to Murtagh. _I am going to go and help him, you stay put and give me cover._

Still invisible, ran towards the rider, who was barely fighting off the two ra'zac, his blue sword flashed repeatedly as he used cast spells at the enemy. Eragon had drawn his daedric sword and had removed his shield from his back; he cut down several mages before stepping up behind one of the ra'zac as it paused to catch breath. Swiftly and viciously he pierced his back, severing the spine. The ra'zac died with barely a gurgle, the other meanwhile had turned around and was cut down by the rider in the same instant.

Eragon ended the spell of invisibility and proceeded to thank the rider when he suddenly recognized the blue blade, it was _Undbitr_, his father's blade.

"Father! It is so good to see you after such a long time," said Eragon as he embraced his father. They were soon joined by Murtagh.

The dragons meanwhile returned after having disposed off the lethrblaka. Eragon stepped upto his father's partner (whom the twins always called _Aunt _Saphira) and gave her neck a mighty hug. In response she nuzzled his head and Murtagh's in turn.

When Eragon turned to the white dragon, the latter stepped forth and in a voice that was surprisingly pleasant and deep, spoke:

"Greetings Dovahkiin. I am Iormungr the Silver, I take it that this is your first encounter with a dragon that is not family, yes?" he waited only long enough for the two of them to nod "then learn how to properly greet a _dovah_. Tradition dictates that when two of the _dov _meet, the elder dragon greets first, thus _**YOL TUUR SHUL**_." The last was a roar and the dragon released a mighty jet of white hot fire skywards.

"Now, your turn, younglings."

Eragon nodded to Murtagh and did the same, using the Fire Breath shout and directed the resulting stream of fire skywards.

"_Sessedov los mul!_ Yes! The dragons within you are strong, very strong! It is long since I had the pleasure of greeting two such as you. But we digress, the old one, Paarthunax calls you, he awaits you atop the Throat of the World. He bade me to bring you to him, Arngeir wise-two-legs told me of your intent and I decided to assist you in fighting the Ra'zac and the Lethrblaka for we hate them."

"On his way here, Iormugr stopped at Carvahall and shouted mine and Saphira's name to the winds. He asked us if we would accompany him, and as you can see, I agreed." Brom completed for the dragon.

"Let us make camp at an oasis that I spotted nearby and rest for the night, these filthy-death-worshipping magicians shall trouble nobody," Saphira said, her familiar melodious voice washing over Eragon's senses.

"Then why do we tarry? Come Dovahkiin, climb up on my back and prepare to see the world as a dovah does."

* * *

Later that night, Eragon sat snuggled against his aunt, Murtagh and his father were busy cooking what appeared to be a delicious kebab and Iormungr was already asleep.

_Aunt Saphira, may I ask a rather personal question that has been plaguing me for quite some time? And I would appreciate it if you kept father out of it. _Eragon said to Saphira.

_All right…_ Eragon thought that she seemed unsure and no wonder, a dragon's closest companion is his or her rider.

_All dragons know the dragon tongue, right?_

_Yes, and the two of you are dragons in all but body._ She laughed her dragonic laugh.

_I was wondering if bonded dragons share this knowledge with their riders?_

That silenced her. _No we don't_ Eragon could feel her remorse and sadness, _it is one of the few things that we dragons don't share with anybody other than dragons. I regret it for I love Brom more than anything or anybody else, but I can't tell him of this knowledge. He understands this but that does not alleviate my sadness._

_Hmm, how do you think father will cope with mother's passing?_

_What do you mean?_

_Father is a rider, he is immortal. Mother is but mortal, she will live for long, courtesy of elven blood in our family, _Eragon smirked, _but eventually she will die. Father loves mother a lot, doesn't he? How will he cope when she passes away?_

_I truly do not know, nephew. Let us hope that the two have many more decades to company. But death is inevitable. He will cope, for he is strong and he will have her memories and he will have me._

No one present in the oasis that night knew just how wrong she was.

_What of you, Eragon? What of your happiness? _Saphira suddenly said.

_What of me? _Eragon asked, surprised at the sudden question.

_Your childhood has been hard and lonely. You don't have any true friends, do you? Apart from your brother, there is no one whom you allow into your heart, is there?_

He knew that her words were the truth but he couldn't bring himself to say so, because if he did, he would admit his weakness, and that was something he never did. Instead he replied,

_I simply had no time to make friends. Between training to be a better warrior and learning the knowledge required to be a better man….And the last two years have been hectic, if nothing else. Besides I have Murtagh and father and mother and Roran and I have you, aunt Saphira, who needs friends with a family like mine? _

_If you say so…._

_By the way, how did you know that I don't have many friends?_

_I have eyes and ears Eragon, it is impossible to keep such knowledge away from mothers. Your mother knows this and I know this for you two are like mine own children. _She sent him waves of motherly love and affection. Eragon couldn't stop himself from tearing up. He snuggled deeper into her side and said softly,

_I love you aunt Saphira, you are like a mother to me…._

* * *

Two days later, they were at the Throat of the World, waiting for the wise old dragon, Paarthunax to arrive. He had apparently gone to check on a dragoness who had become a mother recently; so the brothers had no choice but to wait atop the snow covered peak of the mountain along with their father, Iormungr and Saphira, warming themselves by a fire. They had waited for the better part of an hour when the _thuds _that mark the wing beats of a dragon could be heard clearly and from behind a rock flew a deep blue dragoness. She roared and released a blazing inferno and came in to land softly among the awaiting group. She walked over to Iormungr and nuzzled his side and he returned the tender gesture. Apparently they were mates, she greeted her lighter skinned(scaled?) kin before turning to the twins.

"Greetings Dovahkiin, I am Vervada Storm-driven" and she released the customary flames skyward.

The brothers introduced themselves. "Paarthunax comes, the young dragoness has had some problems." Vervada said.

The twins didn't have to wait long to hear the unique wing beats of an approaching dragon, but what a dragon! The concussive force of the sound jarred the teeth in their jaws as a massive grey-scaled dragon flew into view, his wings beat rapidly as he landed on the mountain, kicking off snow and dirt. But this dragon was ancient, as evidenced by the tattered skin on its wings, broken, chipped horns and chin-spikes. But the dragon's wisdom was also evident in the depth of his grey-eyes.

"Drem yo lok (greetings) Dovahkiin Eragon and Murtagh. I am Paarthunax, the old, brother of Alduin and leader of the Greybeards. I bid you welcome to the Throat of World, my home. I have been very eager to meet the two of you, the first pair of Dovahkiin since your namesakes so many years ago. Come, Iormungr and Vervada have approached me with an issue that I believe the two of you can resolve."

* * *

And so the brothers found themselves in the middle of a vast dragon colony on top of a plateau somewhere in the Spine. Everywhere the brothers looked, they saw dragons, dragons who greeted them as their own, calling them Dovahkiin and waiting to see their fire breath. Eragon had never been under such close scrutiny and felt great pride when the dragons unanimously said that he and Murtagh had the souls of great dragons within them to be able to create such powerful shouts at such a young age. There were also many young dragons, less than twenty years old who looked at them with respect in their eyes and their bearing.

The 'issue' that Paarthunax had said turned out to be eggs that Veravada had laid a few days before. She had laid seven beautiful eggs of which two had gone to the riders and the rest were wild dragons. Of the wild eggs, three had already hatched but the remaining two refused to do so. One was a sapphire blue and the other a blood red. Vervada and Iormungr were worried by the inactivity of these eggs, the dragons within were alive certainly, any skilled magician or dragon could easily feel the energy that the dragons within emitted.

Paarthunax turned to the brothers, "do you two know that a wild dragon had hatched for the first Eragon?" When the brothers nodded, he continued, "that was because he was dragonborn, dovsos, the dragon Bid'daum recognized him as such and chose to bond with him. I believe these two dragons also wish to do the same."

All Eragon could do was nod slowly as he understood the wise ones decision to bring him and Murtagh there. He slowly reached out for the blue egg and picked it up from its nest, which had been made from dried hay and cottonwool, wondering for a brief moment, how the dragoness had manage to harvest the cotton. As his hands encircled the blue oval egg, he marveled at the smooth texture of it, at the warmth it emanated and the white veins that crisscrossed the egg. Then, the egg started to vibrate and shook violently before all of a sudden, it exploded, sending egg fragments flying. Eragon involuntarily closed his eyes, when he opened them again, he saw a young dragonling in his arms, snuggling its chin into his chest before it looked him straight in the eyes, Eragon was drawn into the depth of her(somehow, instinctually he knew that the dragonling was a she) sapphire blue eyes. Then the dragon pressed her snout into his right palm and the world vanished under a blanket of red and black.

* * *

**So what do you people think? Write a review! PLEASEEE!**


	4. Chapter 4: To be a Dovahkiin

**AN: Hiya fellows, sorry for the delay but I was busy in my village with the construction of a new temple….**

**Ray: buddy, I didn't understand the latter part of your review at all…..sorry. But thanks for your faith and support and no, I haven't abandoned the other story, I just need some time to wrap my head around some of the plot…..give me some time guys…..**

**Guest: man, get yourself an account! Arya will appear in the next chapter…And I will complete the stories, both of them….I hope so…I mean I will be leaving for the Indian Naval Academy to begin my training for a future officer in June…I hope they allow me to continue the story there.**

**Some more background about the divines:**

**While all the divines are respected and worshipped, the races have their preferences.**

**The humans worship primarily Zenithaar, the God of Hard Work and Commerce and Talos, the God of War and Stendaar, the God of Mercy and Justice**

**Elves primarily worship Akatosh, the God of Time and Creator of the Dragons and Kynareth, the Nature Goddess.**

**Urgals worship Malacath, the Daedric Prince of Honor and the Warrior's way.**

**Arkay is the God of Life and Dead while Zulianos is worshipped by all mages.**

**Dragons don't worship anybody, but consider Akatosh as their creator.**

**Dwarves worship Stendaar, Zulianos and Zenithaar**

**Dibella is the Goddess of Beauty and Love**

**Mara is the Mother Goddess**

* * *

**Chapter 4:To be a Dovahkiin**

Ever since Saphira had hatched for Eragon and Thorn for Murtagh, the brothers' life had changed drastically and completely. Brom hadn't been happy with his Dovahkiin sons becoming Shrutugal as well, but he recognized that it was fate's will and no one could nor should keep a rider from its egg. The fact that the eggs were wild, unbounded eggs only served to enforce this realization. The twins becoming dragon riders immensely complicated things. Iormungr and Vervada and the other wild dragons could easily train Saphira and Thorn and Paarthunax had vowed to help the brothers to truly bond with their dragons and learn new, more powerful shouts but none could teach them how to be true riders, except for the riders themselves. And that meant talking to Vrael and Umaroth and some of the other elder riders and telling them everything; for there will be questions on the twins unnatural strength, on the fact that the brothers were bonded to wild dragons.

"_You worry yourself unnecessarily Brom, the young ones are Dovahkiin, that is dragons in all but body. Dragons don't hide, and eventually they would have to face the world and reveal their true identities. Isn't it better that instead of facing the world at a much later time, they would rather be under the mentorship of dragons and riders centuries old, who would guide them and help them understand themselves?" _Saphira said to the worried father.

They were resting in the courtyard of High Hrothgar, watching Paarthunax and Arngeir tutor the twins and their dragons to use the combined might of their shouts. Brom had been spectacularly impressed by the powers in his sons and he was very proud of them as well, but he worried for their safety.

Saphira (Brom's) was also pleased by her nephews and their fledgling four month old dragons. Together, their shouts rivaled that of sun-scales Glaedr in its intensity and strength and that was no small achievement.

"_You know as well as I do that the order is no longer what it once was. The young ones have become complacent and lazy, too secure in their own power. Riders perform banned experiments, seek forbidden knowledge and the Elders do nothing about it! I doubt that Vroengard is the right place for my sons to go to. There, they will used by others for their own purposes." _Brom replied.

"_Then take them to Ellesmera, to be trained under the watchful guise of our ebithlar, Oromis-elda and Glaedr-elda will train them well and they will be safe and well-looked after there, given your old friendship and Evandar-pointy-eared-king and his beautiful-angry-mate." _Brom had to laugh at Saphira's description of Islanzadi.

"_Aye, that I believe is an apt solution but I will have to talk to Vrael and Umaroth and Evandar about this first."_

"_The leaders of our order are wise. They will understand."_

"_I hope so."_

* * *

Thus, the brothers spent a full year at High Hrothgar, learning to bond with their dear partners and new shouts, all the while practicing the skills that they had acquired during the years they had trained as Blades and Nightingales.

"_Are you ready Little one, for tomorrow?" _Saphira asked her rider as they flew amidst the snow capped mountains of the Spine at night, at peace in their element.

"_I hope so, Saphira, I certainly hope so. But you know what? I know we will succeed for I have you just as Murtagh has Thorn."_

"_It is not just that, our strength lies in the fact that both of us are dovah, dragons. Our bond is thus more ….tighter, if you will, then other riders and dragons."_

"_Maybe, but that doesn't mean that I don't envy you, or other dragons."_

"_Envy your own kind, why?" _she asked, clearly surprised.

"I can't **FLY**! Roam the skies as freely as you do!" Eragon said out loud.

Saphira simply laughed, before doing a sudden backwards corkscrew, which made Eragon yell in gleeful joy.

* * *

The next morning found Eragon and Murtagh sitting at the mess, with their father sitting on the bench opposite them. The mess was one of the most beautiful halls the twins had ever seen, ornately decorated with black granite and with veins of gold and silver threading through the walls and floor, creating patterns and exotic shapes. But none of it drew the eyes of either brother, nor were they touching the plates of food in front of them.

"Nervous?" Brom asked.

"Quit it, father. Its bad enough as it is, you don't have to make it worse." Murtagh muttered.

Brom simply smiled, "don't worry. All will be fine."

The brothers didn't reply, but kept staring at the plates.

Just then, Arngeir stepped through the bronze doors at the far end of the hall. "Eragon, Murtagh, come, Vrael and Umaroth have arrived and are eager to meet you."

Eragon simply got up and followed his teacher calmly, not betraying the deep sense of trepidation that he felt; Murtagh, on the other hand, couldn't keep his emotions under control, he gulped and his hands shook visibly. Eragon gripped his brother's shoulder tightly, "get a grip on it, brother. Close your eyes." He did so. "Take a deep breath, hold it. Now concentrate on your bond with Thorn, feel him flying through the air, experience his happiness as your own." Eragon paused as a wide smile appeared on Murtagh's face. "Now open your eyes. Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

Eragon simply smiled and led the way to the outer courtyard.

* * *

Outside, a majestic white dragon, whiter and larger than Iormungr, waited, his head bowed and submissive in the presence of Paarthunax. Beside these two dragons, there were two other dragons, more brighter in color than the two elders: Saphira and Thorn. As a result the vast courtyard which spanned more than three hundred seemed crowded. Between the heads of the elder dragons, stood Arngeir and an elf, looking puny.

The brothers approached the odd congregation, and greeted the eldest rider and his dragon.

Umaroth brought his massive head towards the ground and stared at the twins with one unblinking gray eye, the brothers, for their part didn't shy away from the staring contest until the dragon finally whispered, "you are strong of spirit and body, Dovahkiin. Welcome to the order."

The others broke into wide smiles on hearing this, Vrael turned to look at the twins, "Brom told me of your being dragonborn only a week ago. I was astounded and upset that a fellow brother of the order had kept such a big secret from me, but then Arngeir intervened and explained the situation. I am proud of your father for having taken the correct decision. As to the matter of your training, an arrangement has been made for the two of you to be trained in Ellesmera until the watchful gaze of Oromis and Glaedr, two of the most wisest members of our order and the teachers of your father as well." Vrael paused and turned to address Paarthunax, "but the matter of secrecy remains, Paarthunax-elda; there will be questions raised among the order of the origin of Saphira and Thorn for we didn't receive their eggs; questions will also be raised about Eragon's and Murtagh's unnatural strength and appearance. How are we to answer them?"

"Your questions _would _have been significant, Vrael. I say would have been because I have decided that the time has come for the Dovahkiin to reveal their presence to the world at large."

"WHAT?" Arngeir and Brom asked together while Vrael looked surprised. The dragons, all of them, looked on amusedly.

"Yes, it is not in the nature of dragons to hide as your sons will attest, Brom. As it is, any dragon who encounters the twins will immediately recognize them as dovah, so our efforts at secrecy would be futile."

Arngeir rubbed his brow with his two fingers, clearly tensed, "if it is your decision, than the Greybeards will willingly abide to them."

"As will I", Brom said.

Paarthunax hummed, his throat muscles vibrating visibly, "you are wise in accepting my logic and recognizing that we of the dov do not hide, no matter who or what the enemy is. Eragon and Murtagh have tolerated your unnecessary worries long enough."

Eragon was very happy to finally know that he was going to be trained as a rider, by his father's teacher, no less! He was also very happy that he would no longer have to hide the fact that he was a dragon.

"Spread the word! **The Dovahkiin have returned**! " Paarthunax roared. The other dragons joined him in announcing the news to the world.

* * *

Eragon breathed a sigh of contentment and pleasure as he opened his eyes slowly and the bright sunlight poured in. He took a deep breath, taking in the smell of early dawn and leapt off his bed before striding out to the balcony of his tower, watching the eastern sky where a faint red glow on the horizon heralded the coming of the sun. _Its good to be home…. _He and Murtagh, their dragons and Vrael and Umaroth along with their father and his Saphira had arrived in Carvahall on the previous evening; Uncle Garrow had organized an extremely impressive welcoming party and a feast to celebrate the return of his nephews and the arrival of honored guests, Vrael and Umaroth, grandmasters of the Rider Order.

All that Eragon could recall of the previous evening was utter _chaos _as he was bear hugged by Roran, who himself had become a bear of a man, was swept into the arms of his loving mother as everybody else commented on his and Murtagh being dragonborn or fawned on their dragons….Honestly, he couldn't even remember the last occasion where he had smiled as widely, nor could he remember the dinner on the previous evening, although he was somehow certain that it was very delicious.

_Good morning Saphria, _he said to his bond as he felt her wakening.

_Is it? Why didn't you tell me that I would be in so bad a pain on the next morning? My head feels as if a hundred kull and blowing their horns inside! Ugh….,_ she groaned, releasing plumes of smoke.

_How would I know that my normally well-behaved dragon would drink three barrels of mead and two of ale? _ Eragon chuckled.

_Stop gloating and do something…._

Eragon siphoned off some of the pain, as far as he could bear and then suggested to go and drown her head in the coldest mountain stream she could find.

Saphira seemed unsure if that would work, but flew off towards a nearby lake nonetheless, her normally graceful flying rendered awkward and clumsy. Eragon saw a flash of red in the corner of his vision and turned to see Thorn also flying off towards the lake, his flying was even worse than his sister's. Eragon laughed at the sight of two hungover dragons.

_I hope Paarthunax doesn't ever see you like this, he would die of shock…._

_I forbid you from telling him anything! _

Eragon simply laughed.

* * *

Eragon decided to spend the rest of the day by taking a trip down memory lane, that is, he visited the training grounds, stables and the armory, places which were familiar to him from his time as a prince and a knight.

The "stables" were actually six massive stables, each built to house upto five hundred horses. The military of Carvahall was centered around its cavalry which had three different types or classes: chevaliers, heavy cavalry who wore the finest steel plate armor and rode heavily barded destriers and had the ability to punch through the stoutest shieldwall; hobilars, medium all-round cavalry who also rode destriers, barded with leather armour instead of steel, and the scouts, who rode fast coursers and were essentially mounted archers, armed with composite bows.

Eragon had trained as a chevalier in his days as a Prince and the skills he had picked up with both sword and lance were invaluable.

As he walked around the stables, greeting and being hailed by others, he couldn't help but reminisce on his childhood and teenage days. Shaking his head slightly, Eragon left to find Horst, the old smith and his sons, Albreich and Baldor and to maybe grab a drink or two for old times sake. He figured that since he would be in Ellesmera for a long time, he would do better to spend his time among old friends.

As he walked through the central square, which was the market as well, Eragon reflected that Carvahall, much like most of the Kingdom was a happy place; the city was clean and bright, well decorated with plants and banners and statues all over the place, the people seemed happy and content and the hustle and bustle in the city's various districts was of a greater intensity than any of the other cities that he had seen in the Brodding Kingdom. The people parted before him, recognizing him as the dragonborn and prince, and Eragon politely nodded to each and every person who hailed him which included the occasional Urgal; the Urgals here were primarily traders, who had come from their strongholds deep in the spine to sell their leatherworks, which were of great acclaim throughout the Empire and hunters, here to sell meat and hide that they had harvested. Infact, he saw a magnificent bear pelt, no doubt skinned from an animal that must have been even more impressive…..

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shop that he had not expected to see, given the erratic nature of its owner, but he was glad to see it nonetheless. He immediately changed direction and walked into the shop, taking in the aroma of exotic herbs and potions as he did so….

The shop was dimly lit by a scattering of candles and was populated by strange looking plants ….and a rather shaggy and large cat who seemed to be sleeping on the counter, but Eragon knew from experience that as far as werecats were concerned, appearances were almost always deceptive.

_Hello Solembum, _Eragon greeted the werecat.

_Greetings Dovahkiin and may I add that you have grown….a lot over the last few years._

Eragon inclined his head in silent acceptance of the werecat's praise.

"I was expecting you yesterday! Where have you been lad?" scolded a curly haired herbalist as she emerged from a side door.

"Avoiding you as usual, Angela." Eragon smiled.

"HA! I see that your years at High Hrothgar haven't spoiled your wit and Paarthunax hasn't rubbed off on you! Good. Its nice to see you again."

Eragon nodded before sitting down at the nearest stool, "I spoke to Master Tenga last night and he said that you had found that all toads were frogs or some such nonsense?"

"Nonsense! How dare you treat years of dedicated research with such disdain? Hmpf! I guess I won't read you your future after all."

"What? You mean crystal balls and tarot cards, and palm reading? No thanks."

"No, you buffoon, I meant dragon bones!"

"WHAT?"

"Don't take offense just because you are Dovahkiin! These bones are very very old and could not be related to you or any dragon you know, alright! Now, do you want to know your future or not?"

"Why are you offering me this? Just because I am dragonborn?"

"Yes …..and no. Solembum said something to me that intrigues me and so I want to do this."

_What the hell! _"Alright, do it."

Angela nodded enthusiastically before disapprearing through the side door and appearing a few minutes later with a velvety bag, the contents of which she upturned into a porcelain bowl. A half-dozen smallish dragon bones clattered into the bowl and Eragon knew from their color that they were very old.

"Manin! Wyrda! Hugin! " Angela cried and tossed the bones into the bowl again. A flash of red light blinded Eragon for a second and when he was able to see again, he saw that the bones had been marked with strange runes.

"Well this is interesting!" Angela said as she surveyed the bones, "this is quite hard, actually, but not very surprising since you are, after all, a dovah and a rider." She wiped her head with a kerchief before taking a swig from a wineskin.

"See here, the line with a circle inscribed on top? That means you will be living for a very very long time or you will become immortal. That's unusual, even for a rider," she gestured to three bones marked with a lightning bolt, a dragon's claw and a meandering river, "these bones are a bit difficult, the lightning bolt means that your life will be full of conflict and losses, both personal and otherwise,and yet the dragon's claw recognizes that you are in fact a dragon and therefore you will never know defeat. At the same time, there's the meandering river, which suggests that you will be one of the few who are truly free to make their own choices. Several choices await you, some of each you will face in the near future. Each path will bring you great power but only one shall bring you peace and happiness. Several battles will be fought by you and for you." She moved onto another set of bones which had been marked by what seemed like a window set among clouds, a crown and a blooming rose underneath a full moon, "the window tells us that you will journey to other realms, other planes of this universe, the crown means that you will become a great leader and ruler and ….this is rather pleasant, there is an epic romance in your life Eragon. The woman will be powerful, beautiful beyond compare and of a noble heritage as great as your own. Your love will outlive empires."

Eragon sighed and reached for the wineskin which she had offered, drinking deeply, he replied, "that's a future to give anyone bad headaches….."

"Don't worry about it, Eragon, the future will make sense only once it has happened, not before…"

Eragon simply nodded.

Then, Solembum simply jumped unto the table and looking directly into his eyes, he said, _listen carefully Dovahkiin, when the children of Time itself are threatened, the refuge of valorous souls, the Vault of Souls may serve as a haven for the oppressed. _And with that, the cat jumped off and walked away, his tail waving regally in the air…

"What in the world?" Eragon turned to Angela, but she held up a hand, "what he said was meant for you and only you."

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**So what do you people think? Write a review!**


	5. Chapter 5: Elves

**AN: Hello friends! Chapter 5 is done….took me a couple of days. I hope you folks like it.**

** : Thanks for the great reviews…really appreciate them…**

**Guest: Get an account, buddy and snow elves/Grey Folk? I'll see what I can do!**

**WorldStrider: Thanks for the feedback, really grateful….I am glad you raised the issue of the brothers being too overpowered…..i don't want to reveal too many plot details but lets just say Galby isn't the worst the brothers will face….Between Alduin and the Aldmeri Dominion and a couple of bad Daedric Princes from Oblivion, they have their work cut out.**

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**Chapter 5: Elves**

Eragon was nervous, while he had met and interacted with elves before, they were usually very few and far in between; in fact, the last elf he had spent much time with was Karliah, the leader of the Nightingales and that was a year ago…..Now, he was about to enter Ellsemera, the capital of the Elven Nation. Vrael and Umaroth had led them directly to the elven capital, deliberately avoiding the other elven cities that lay between Carvahall and Ellesmera, in order to ensure that Evandar Konungr was the first to know the true nature of the twins….To make sure that they made the best possible first impression, the brothers wore their Nightingale armor, carried their Daedric swords and wore a ring marked with the symbol of the Blade, a stylized dragon made to resemble a diamond-shaped shield.

As they flew over the endless forests below, Eragon wondered how Vrael and Umaroth knew the way, with no visible landmarks. _True, there are no visible landmarks from here, but we dragons can estimate the distance traveled and the direction from any point, can't you? _Saphira said.

_Yes, I can but not over large distances and not from the air, on the ground, my sense of direction and distance is rather accurate…..I guess that I am yet to adjust to the speed with which you fly._

_Well, I don't know what that says of our bond…._Saphira laughed.

Eragon, unable to help, smiled as well….

_Saphira, Thorn, follow me and land, _Umaroth's deep, powerful voice echoed in his and Saphira's mind.

The dragons followed their elder into a shallow circular dive before landing softly in a narrow and long clearing between two almost parallel rows of fir trees. Vrael descended from his saddle and gestured for the twins to do the same. As the brothers did so, Vrael led them and their dragons into the forest, a few hundred feet later, Eragon saw a figure wearing silver robes, with long silver hair and a golden circlet rested on his brow, his face was old, serene and wise….

"Show him your palms, young ones," Vrael said.

They did so and the elf in silver smiled and spread his arms in a welcoming gesture. Vrael stepped past him and the twins followed him. A few meters on, Eragon couldn't keep his curiosity bottled up anymore, "Vrael-elda, who was that?"

"That was Lord Gilderien the Wise, Prince of House Miolandra, wielder of the White Flame of Vándil, and guardian of Ellesméra since the days of Du Fyrn Skulblaka, our war against Alduin. None may enter the city unless he permits it.

Now, Eragon and Murtagh, I must forewarn you, the two of you are Dovahkiin, dragons in all but your body."

"I think we know that…." Murtagh said, smiling.

"Yes, you do…what you two don't know is how we elves treat dragons. Elves almost consider the dragons to be sacred….worthy of great respect, they have the great respect for riders as well, for dragons choose riders…." Vrael paused and Eragon filled his unfinished sentence, "and we are both rider and dragon."

"Yes…., what I am trying to convey is that be very careful of what you do and what you say, understand?"

Eragon understood that as Dovahkiin and shrutugal, he and Murtagh held great power and authority, unless they were careful, things could get even more complicated.

Eragon nodded, "I understand, Vrael-elda, you are telling us to remain humble and behave ourselves, no matter how sky-high we are praised."

Vrael gave a wry smile, "I wouldn't have put it that bluntly, but yes, that is what I am telling you."

By this time, they had come well into Ellesmerathe forest thinned and breaks appeared within the canopy, allowing planks of mottled sunlight to bar the way. Then they passed underneath two burled trees that leaned against each other and stopped at the edge of an empty glade.

The ground was strewn with dense patches of flowers. From pink roses to bluebells and lilies, spring's fleeting treasure was heaped about like piles of rubies, sapphires, and opals. Their intoxicating aromas attracted hordes of bumblebees. To the right, a stream chuckled behind a row of bushes, while a pair of squirrels chased each other around a rock.

At first it looked to Eragon like a place where deer might bed for the night. But as he continued to stare, he began to pick out paths hidden among the brush and trees; soft warm light where normally there would be auburn shadows; an odd pattern in the shapes of the twigs and branches and flowers, so subtle that it nearly escaped detection—clues that what he saw was not entirely natural. He blinked, and his vision suddenly shifted as if a lens had been placed over his eyes, resolving everything into recognizable shapes. Those were paths, aye. And those were flowers, aye. But what he had taken to be clusters of lumpy, twisted trees were in fact graceful buildings that grew directly out of the pines.

One tree bulged at the base to form a two-story house before sinking its roots into the loam. Both stories were hexagonal, although the upper level was half as small as the first, which gave the house a tiered appearance. The roofs and walls were made of webbed sheets of wood draped over six thick ridges. Moss and yellow lichen bearded the eaves and hung over jeweled windows set into each side. The front door was a mysterious black silhouette recessed under an archway wrought with symbols.

Another house was nestled between three pines, which were joined to it through a series of curved branches. Reinforced by those flying buttresses, the house rose five levels, light and airy. Beside it sat a bower woven out of willow and dogwood and hung with flameless lanterns disguised as galls.

Each unique building enhanced and complemented its surroundings, blending seamlessly with the rest of the forest until it was impossible to tell where artifice ended and nature resumed. The two were in perfect balance. Instead of mastering their environment, the elves had chosen to accept the world as it was and adapt themselves to it.

The inhabitants of Ellesméra eventually revealed themselves as a flicker of movement at the fringe of Eragon's sight, no more than needles stirring in the breeze. Then he caught glimpses of hands, a pale face, a sandaled foot, an upraised arm. One by one, the wary elves stepped into view, their almond eyes fixed upon the three riders and their dragons.

The twins had seen elves before, but those had been, necessarily warriors or traders; now they were seeing elves in their own home, so it seemed different…

The women wore their hair unbound. It rippled down their backs in waves of silver and sable braided with fresh blossoms, like a garden waterfall. They all possessed a delicate, ethereal beauty that belied their unbreakable strength; to Eragon, they seemed flawless. The men were just as striking, with high cheekbones, finely sculpted noses, and heavy eyelids. Both sexes were garbed in rustic tunics of green and brown, fringed with dusky colors of orange, russet, and gold.

_The Fair Folk indeed,_ thought Eragon. He touched his lips in greeting.

The elves gathered before them laughed heartily; some of them came forward to greet Vrael and Umaroth personally while others came to greet Saphira and Thorn and _then _the brothers….when Eragon and Murtagh introduced themselves, the elves retreated, eyes wide in surprise and recognition of their name…..

_You had to tell your names….come, we hust hurry to Tialdari Hall. The king and queen have the first right to know your identities, _Vrael said, leading them along a serpentine path….

The path ended at a net of roots that formed steps, like bare pools of earth. They climbed to a door embedded within a wall of saplings. Eragon's heart quickened as the door swung open, seemingly of its own accord, and revealed a hall of trees. Hundreds of branches melded together to form the honeycombed ceiling. Below, twelve chairs were arrayed along each wall.

In them reposed four-and-twenty elf lords and ladies.

Wise and handsome were they, with smooth faces unmarked by age and keen eyes that gleamed with excitement. They leaned forward, gripping the arms of their chairs, and stared at Eragon's group with open wonder and surprise. Unlike the other elves, they had swords belted at their waists—hilts studded with beryls and garnets—and circlets that adorned their brows.

And at the head of the assembly stood a white pavilion that sheltered two thrones of knotted roots. King Evandar and Queen Islanzadí sat upon it. The queen was as beautiful as an autumn sunset, proud and imperious, with two dark eyebrows slanted like upraised wings, lips as bright and red as holly berries, and midnight hair bound under a diamond diadem. Her tunic was crimson. Round her hips hung a girdle of braided gold. And clasped at the hollow of her neck was a velvet cloak that fell to the ground in languid folds. Beside her sat, the King, regal and proud, like a lion, with shoulder long silver hair and blazing blue eyes that shone. He too wore a crimson-colored tunic and he too wore a golden crown, in the shape of vines….

But Eragon saw nothing of this, for his eyes were riveted on an image of perfection who stood at the King's side….a beautiful maiden, with skin the color of honey, high cheekbones, blazing emerald eyes, rosy full lips and beautiful waist-length hair, as black as a starless nightsky. Plain black leather clothed her shapely frame, poor raiment for one so fair. She was taller than most men, and her stance was perfectly balanced and relaxed. Her eyes were wide and blazing, seemingly locked onto his own….

Meanwhile the King and the Queen had approached the brothers (the dragons had to wait outside) and Saphira's warning snapped him out of his trance….Putting two fingers to his lips and bowing graciously, Eragon intoned, "Evandar Konungr, Islanzadi Drottning. Atra esterní ono thelduin."

"Atra du evarínya ono varda."

"Un atra mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr," replied Eragon, completing the ritual. He could tell that the elves were caught off guard by his knowledge of their customs. In his mind, he listened as Saphira repeated his greeting to the king and queen.

The queen went outside to greet the dragons but the king stayed behind, "from the armor you are wearing and the rings on your fingers, I presume that the two of you are both Nightingales and Blades," his eyes were wide ,"what are your names, shrutugalar?"

"Eragon, your majesty."

"Murtagh, your majesty."

The king's eyes widened even more and whispers spread through the room, "you bear powerful names, riders….rarely do we name our children after the heroes of old…"

"Tell the king your full names, young ones.."

Eragon nodded and drew himself to his full height and spoke loudly, his voice resonating with power and authority, "Prince Sir Eragon Dovahkiin Shrutugal, that is my name for I am Prince of Carvahall, Knight of the Order of the Guardians, Dragonborn and Dragon Rider."

Murtagh mirrored him word for word and a deafening silence ensued in the hall…..not a whisper was heard as the elven lords and ladies absorbed the newfound revelation…..a few more moments later and the King broke first out of the trance, shaking his head in an effort to dissipate his shock, "the Dovahkiin have returned and a pair of Dovahkiin at that…., today is a momentous day….I declare a feast and a celebration to mark this occasion. Break out the barrels of faelnirv, the Dovahkiin have returned!"

Cheering and cries of happiness broke out and yet again, Eragon became aware of the young lady who had captured his attention as he stepped out of the hall and came face to face with her, standing by the side of the Queen… With a start, Eragon marked the remarkable resemblance between the Queen and the maiden, so remarkable that he could have sworn they were sisters….

"Eragon, Murtagh, meet my daughter, Arya Drotthingu." _Arya, a beautiful name for a beautiful lady, _Eragon thought. He heard Saphira chucklein the privacy of his mind.

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**Soooo, I tied to make the first time Eragon sees Arya as special as I could! What do you people think? Write a review and tell me!**


	6. Chapter 6: A New Friend

**AN: Hi folks! Chapter six is done! Phew, this one took a lot of effort. The first part is from arya's pov while the second part is eragon's pov.**

**NanoByte22,****Elemental Dragon Slayer: ****Thanks for the advice, I had planned to make Arya and Eragon good friends before making them a pair, but they will become mates eventually, but the time period over which they become friends will be several years. Your suggestions simply reinforce my decisions!**

**Thatguy64: could you please point out the errors, I would like to correct them!**

**Thanks to all of you great people for all the support so far!**

**Read on!**

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**Chapter 6: A New Friend**

The feasting and celebration hadn't been a very good experience for Arya, not because it wasn't well organized, but because she was sitting opposite the rather handsome young rider who went by the name of Eragon; _Prince Sir Eragon Dovahkiin Shrutugal that's what he said his name was…such power in just a name…_Arya felt shy and skittish around the man and that made her feel odd….shy and skittish was the very opposite of how she normally was. Every time she looked up from her plate of food, she would find herself staring into the warm brown eyes of the man and they would both look away simultaneously….after this had happened for half-a-dozen times, she simply stopped looking across the table but instead looked off to the left, only to discover her father and mother smiling a knowing smile at her.

She swore silently and returned her eyes to the food…..Soon the feast ended and the dancing and singing began around a large fire lit outside the hall. As the bards sang magnificent songs and tales of old, couples started to take to the floor, led by her own parents. As she walked outside, she kept her eye out for the rider and spotted him a few meters ahead talking softly with the twin of his, presently he nodded to Murtagh and walked away to almost instantaneously meld in the darkness that surrounded the glade for it was already long past sunset. Blinking mildly in surprise at the sudden disappearance, she looked around but couldn't find Eragon anywhere. Shrugging and feeling a little disappointed, she decided to sit for a moment and enjoy the pleasant atmosphere before departing to her own chambers.

A couple of songs later and still she couldn't spot Eragon, she was curious to know where he had gone off to for the three dragons were drinking faelnirv while his twin, Murtagh was dancing with a young maiden, whose name escaped her. "Arya, my child, come with me, if you would…" her father said from behind her. Startled, she stood and followed him as he walked away a few feet from the crowd around the fire, he eventually stopped and turned to look at the ongoing celebrations and smiled on seeing his mate dance with the Lord Rider.

The one thing that Arya disliked about her father was his limitless patience, he could remain completely still and observe something for days if not weeks, how he did it never ceased to amaze her. "You wanted to speak to me, father?" she asked, rather tersely.

He smiled, "what do you think of the new arrivals today, my daughter?" When she raised an eyebrow in a silent question, he clarified, "I only ask because you are my heir and therefore it is important to know what your instincts tell you, so that I may guide you if you happen to be wrong, which I may add is rather rare."

Arya wasn't completely surprised by her father's explanation but answered his previous question nonetheless, but not before pondering over the question for some time, "I found the Dovahkiin intriguing…..for someone to be so much, to hold such power….it's an intimidating thought…what did _he _say, 'Prince of Carvahall, Knight of the Order of Guardians, Dragonborn and Shrutu'gal', that is a truly a mouthful!" Evandar laughed, "but seriously, Carvahall is an important ally of our nation, isn't it?" she paused long enough for her father to nod, "it follows that they view us more favorably than the other human kingdoms….and as riders they would be formidable! Surely, they will rise to posts of prominence in the order, and Lord Vrael himself accompanied them here, that surely gives credence to my supposition…maybe one of them will become Grandmaster in the future?"

Evandar had been listening to her carefully and nodded thoughtfully as she finished, "your observations have great merit, Arya….you are learning fast and have done me proud." He smiled warmly at her and Arya smiled in return, pleased that she had managed to impress her father. "What do you know of _him_, father?" she asked

"_HIM?_ There are two of them, are they not?" her father asked her in return, a knowing smile on his face.

Arya blushed, knowing that she had been caught…"it was only a slip of the tongue" was what she wanted to say, but of course, the Ancient Language stopped her, instead she said, "of course, them."

"Come now, Arya, I know that you couldn't take your eyes of Eragon, now could you?" said her mother as she joined them, her dance with Lord Vrael apparently over.

Arya blushed even harder but was spared further embarrassment by her lovely mother, "you didn't answer her question, though, who is _he_? I myself would like to know the identity of the man who has drawn my dear daughter's eyes?"

Unable to hide her curiosity, Arya looked at her father expectantly. "The twins are both sons of Brom," at this both mother and daughter gasped, for they both knew and admired Brom a lot, "they were twelve when their tutor, Tenga discovered them to be Dovahkiin…this was, however kept from them until the age of eighteen, when they traveled to High Hrothgar and learned of it from Arngeir himself and since that moment their training began which continues to this day, they have come here to learn of the ways of dragon riders from Oromis-elda and Glaedr-elda."

"What about me then?" Arya asked, worried that her lessons with the elder rider were about to be cut short.

"What about you? Your lessons will continue as usual, you will just have two fellow students."

Arya didn't say anything but inside, she was delighted to have two fellow students to compete with….she once again looked around trying to find the rider, but failed to spot him.

What Arya didn't notice was that her father and mother had noticed her searching glances, they shared a knowing glance and Evandar cleared his throat, "he has walked towards the Menoa Tree…."

Arya was startled out of her search but she kept her calm, "so?"

Her mother laughed heartily, "come Arya, you can't fool your parents, we know you are looking for Eragon! Vrael told me that Eragon is quite shy and uncomfortable around strangers, so I think he needs a friend now. Go on!" she pushed her in the small of her back towards the Menoa Tree.

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_A few minutes before….._

As night fell, Eragon felt uncomfortable sitting there in front of the bards and the various dancing couples. He wanted to simply disappear and even contemplated using the spell on his armor and vanish from sight. He felt Saphira's amusement over their bond, _relax Little one and enjoy yourself…these elves aren't out to harm you and your brother seems to be enjoying himself. _

Eragon scoffed, _that's because he is drunk, besides he is always in the company of women, so dancing should come naturally to him. _But Eragon couldn't resist a small smile at the sight of his brother twirling around an elf-maiden.

He suddenly got up and headed deeper into the surrounding forests, but not before giving his beloved partner a piece of advice, _I am going to see if I can find the Menoa Tree…you, my lovely overly-large dragon, will try to remain sober, right?_ Saphira sent him the mental equivalent of showing her tongue.

As he walked through the forests, marveling at the peace and tranquility that seemed to pervade the very atmosphere, Eragon felt as if something was calling to him, trying to reach out to him. Curious by the presence in his mind, Eragon followed it to its source, walking through a part of the forest, he realized, must be as older than Paarthumax himself, guessing by the massive girth of the pine trees, some were more than 30 feet in diameter. Walking further, Eragon felt the presence was almost tantalizingly close, he hurried and suddenly found himself in a very large clearing, large enough, he mused to hold five or six dragons the size of Paarthunax and then in the very center of the clearing was the biggest tree he would ever see….

Easily 500 feet tall and its main stem probably a hundred feet wide, the tree dwarfed everything else that Eragon could think of. Staring open mouthed, Eragon wandered into the shade of the tree's canopy and upto the main trunk, placing his right palm on the tree's trunk, he whispered with his mind, _great Kynareth, it is mine great privilege to stand before you._

_Welcome Dovahkiin, child of mine brother! _Eragon staggered backwards, he hadn't expected the Goddess to reply!_ It has been far too long since one so pure, so destined sought me. Come, now that you have aroused me, sit in my boughs and tell me of the land beyond the borders of this forest!_

And so Eragon did, over the next half-an-hour, Eragon told her of all he knew and of his own life till that point, seeing no point in hiding anything, for why should he distrust Kynareth, the Goddess of Nature herself!

As he came to a natural pause in his expansive monologue, she stirred, _someone's coming and therefore I must regretfully take my leave….it was good talking to you, child of Akatosh._

Eragon was surprised, who would come seeking him? Or perhaps, more likely, some elf had simply come to pay respect to the sacred tree.

Therefore, it came as a shock when the stranger revealed herself to be the none other than the beautiful emerald-eyed elven princess. So shocked was Eragon that he couldn't hear the princess call out to him, almost….

"Lord Eragon Dovahkiin? Is that you?" she asked.

Eragon smiled internally at the honorific she had used while his heart soared at hearing his name in her honey sweet tones.

Eragon replied in the affirmative and prepared to jump down but was once again stopped by her, "please don't come down, will it be okay if I join you?"

Eragon mumbled a weak reply, "it would be an ho..honor", his eyes going wide. He watched with fascination as she climbed nimbly and gracefully up the branches of the ancient tree and perched herself atop the same branch as him, her legs mirroring his, one placed on the branch, the other dangling over the edge; Eragon quickly hid his face behind a mask of nonchalance to prevent her from knowing his fascination with her….

Eragon took a deep breath and realized with a start that the maiden beside him smelled of crushed pine needles and immediately concluded that he was addicted to it. _What is happening with me? _he thought, little did he know that the princess too had stumbled on his sweet, yet masculine smell of holy basil… and was wondering the same question..

She took a good view of her surroundings and looked over the canopy of the surrounding forests and to the clear skies above with its beautiful half-moon and the multitude of stars and said, smiling, "well you certainly have a very good view from here!"

Eragon smiled as well, "yes, the night is certainly beautiful" _but it doesn't compare to you…_

"I wonder why you are here, drottningu? I mean, I appreciate the company, but why would you leave the feast?" Eragon asked, curious.

She smiled at him and replied truthfully, "I was curious about you, Lord Eragon…you got up and left almost an hour ago and didn't return, so I followed. Seeing you alone perched here, I felt like joining you and here I am."

Eragon smiled as well, "I am no lord, princess Arya, please call me Eragon."

She nodded, "alright, but then you will have to call me Arya as well."

Eragon gulped but nodded hesitatingly. The pair then shared few minutes of comfortable silence, occasionally broken by the hooting of an owl, nesting somewhere in the tree.

Arya broke her silence first, leaning forward and whispering, "Er…Eragon? Would you tell me something of your travels? I haven't ever left the borders of our forests and am very curious to know of the outside world.." she paused, her eyes full of curiosity and genuine interest. Eragon smiled widely and nodded, staring with a description of the Kingdom of which he was prince and thence proceeding to tell her of everyplace he had ever been, from the stark snow covered peaks of the Spine and High Hrothgar to the verdant plains around Illirea to the beautiful, if deadly sand-dunes of the Hadarac desert…Arya, on her part, listened with rapt attention, absorbing every single detail as Eragon wove beautiful pictures with his words. Eragon also talked of his parents, learning to his surprise that Arya already knew Brom, of his cousin, of his uncles and of his teachers, be it man, elf or dragon...and asked in turn of his teachers-to-be, Oromis and Glaedr, being delightfully surprised again that Arya would be a fellow student.

By the time Eragpn finished a couple of hours later, he realized that it was quite late in the night and it would be best if the two of them returned to the feast, otherwise questions would undoubtedly be raised. As he said this, Arya demurred informing her that her parents already knew that she was with him… Surprised, Eragon made no reply and simply sat in silence enjoying himself, if a brief exhausted.

Saphira joined them a bit later, she was sober enough to be able to land softly on a branch below them, which was thick and strong enough to support her massive weight and then she greeted the princess and started a conversation with her, giving her anecdotes of the various journeys that Eragon had previously described, making sure that she embarrassed Eragon as much as possible.

Arya almost fell from her perch, laughing at the scene described by Saphira of Eragon gathering firewood, lighting a massive fire and even cooking a fine meal one fine night in the spine, all the while asleep, only to have Eragon catch her by her waist and then pulling her up..Arya sobered up immediately, she didn't appreciate the thought of falling that great a height (and probably realized that Eragon could have his revenge by letting her fall).

Eragon chastised his dragon, albeit amusedly, for making Arya fall and then told her to be more careful. With a start, he realized that his hands were stilled wrapped around her waist, he immediately let go and backed off, uncomfortable with his proximity.

"Come on, we need to return and I need to sleep." Eragon yawned widely before climbing down the tree, with Arya following him. Once down, Eragon walked Arya to her rooms in the Tialdari hall before and bade her goodnight before returning to his own rooms, a wide smile on his face.

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**Most will realize that Arya is way OOC, but this Arya is like twenty-three and has all the love in the world (her parents)… so I hope that I did a good job of portraying her character… I am planning to bring Faolin into the story, but I haven't decided yet… I hope that you guys liked the chapter.. do review, please!**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: I HATE DOGS! No, that isn't correct. Correction, I HATE STREET DOGS! For the last two weeks, I have been bed-ridden; courtesy: a Goddamn street dog which caused me to have an accident at 80 kmph and wreck my beautiful Honda CBR bike! AND BREAK my left Forearm and twist my left ankle!**

**Yeah, so sorry for not being able to update quickly or reply to the several nice PMs that I have received. Even now, I am in bed, in fact, this whole chapter has been written by a dear friend who had the patience to listen to the story word-for-word and then write it down before creating a word file. Everybody thank her! I am not going to take names, on her request.**

**Anyways, onto the next chapter.**

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**Chapter 7**

Waking up at the crack of dawn, a habit that had been hammered into him and his brother from their childhood, Eragon jumped out of bed and walked to the balcony of his tree-house, taking in deep breaths of the cool morning air and the breathtaking vistas of the reddish rays of the sun creating small rainbows within each and every dew-drop that hung on the ends of grass stalks. Feeling justifiably happy, Eragon turned inside to change out of his night clothes and put on his shoes before returning to the balcony and jumping off towards the nearest branch below him, grabbing it by one hand before letting go and grabbing the next one and in that manner came down to terra firma. Then, he proceeded to run flat out, his long strides and inhuman speed allowing him to cover the more than five kilometers distance from the residential areas of the city to the Training grounds where Saphira awaited him. And along with her, were Thorn and Murtagh, his brother with his twin swords in hand and he noticed his own sword and shield on Saphira's saddle… he smiled, Murtagh did this in every new place that the brothers had ever been to…they would spar in front of everybody else and Murtagh would show off his dual wielding skills…_well not this time, dear brother, _Eragon thought.

Walking nonchalantly upto Saphira, Eragon wished her and Thorn a pleasant morning before drawing his sword from its scabbard and retrieving his shield…that done, he stalked off to a few paces behind Murtagh, right in the center of the field before leaning against his sword…his body language speaking volumes of just how bored he was. Murtagh smiled, as if he knew what Eragon was doing, which he probably did… and came forward with his own twin blades and stood right in front of Eragon, swords held at the ready. Eragon also took up an _en guard _stance with the shield at the front and his sword to the side. The brothers stared into each other's eyes for a full minute before charging at the same time… Murtagh raised his front sword to strike a Eragon's head as the rear one came up to hit him in the chest, Eragon immediately jumped into a shallow dive, aiming to tackle his brother to the ground before finishing him only to see Murtagh jump in a loop over his sliding form. Eragon rolled as he fell and was on his feet in no time and turned, raising his shield to deflect an attack that he knew was coming, and just as he had thought no sooner had he turned than a daedric sword hit his shield, _hard. _Eragon noticed immediately that Murtagh was leaning into the strike, a fatal flaw… he shoved Murtagh off with his shield, the force was so strong that Murtagh was flung back a few feet and landed rather hard on his rump. Now had this been a real fight, it would've been over right then and there, as Eragon would have brought his sword in an overhead chop aimed to slice his brother's head in half; but it wasn't a real fight, so Eragon allowed his brother to have some breathing space. Murtagh got up, swearing impressively before staring into Eragon's eyes and grinning. Eragon knew that grin and that gleam in his brother's eyes, it meant serious trouble…. _Careful now, Little One, last time he tried that trick, you got beaten up pretty bad.. _he heard Saphira warn him. _Last time, he took me completely by surprise…this time, I have plans._

They clashed for a few more minutes, slashing and parring at speeds that were too great for even elven eyes to follow, both of them waiting. Murtagh, for the opportune moment and Eragon, for Murtagh to launch his _'finishing move' _as he had described it so flippantly. And then, he paused.

"Lets see what you've got brother!" Murtagh taunted out loud.

That surprised Eragon, for Murtagh never spoke during their spars, _unless…_ Eragon took a look around the training field and sure enough, there was a vast crowd surrounding them….including the Royal Family.

Eragon would have let the taunt go unanswered, but Saphira wouldn't stand for it, so she suggested a reply which Eragon agreed to immediately.

"The LOUSIEST brother on the Gods' green earth! That's what I've got!" Eragon replied.

Murtagh didn't reply but sprinted towards Eragon, at a distance of ten feet or so, he jumped, straight and high, spinning rapidly, holding his two swords end-to-end, their hilts touching and as he fell, he continued spinning rapidly and was going to cut Eragon into ribbons had the swords' edges not been blunted. But Eragon was ready. He waited till when Murtagh was just about three feet short of the ground before rolling forward, timing was important for if he rolled too soon, he would receive a sword slash at his back, if he rolled too late, Murtagh would land right on top of him. Fortunately, the timing was spot on and Eragon righted himself just as his brother landed behind. As both the brothers turned, Eragon with the delight of victory on his face and Murtagh with an expression of complete surprise, Eragon went for the jugular.

As soon as he was facing his brother, Eragon spoke three words: _Fus Ro Dah! _(Force Balance Push). The resulting shout sent his brother flying backwards by atleast twenty feet or more. And by the teeeime Murtagh understood what had happened, he felt Eragon's sword at his throat.

_What was that shout for? You cheated! _his brother alleged.

_Maybe. But if you can showoff that stupid move, than I suppose it is only fair that I showoff what I can do with my Tongue. _Eragon replied, smiling. He removed his sword from his brother's throat and offered his arm which Murtagh took willingly, all the time aware of the pin-drop silence around the field. As he and Murtagh began walking to their dragons, loud applause and cheering broke out among the gathered crowd. Most elves had eyes as wide as large almonds while the King and the Queen seemed oddly pleased, but Eragon had eyes on Arya, whose face registered absolute shock and amazement.

Eragon was pleased so far with Ellesmera and all he could do was wish Lady Luck to continue to be benevolent for him…

* * *

To say Arya was stupefied would be an understatement; she was absolutely tongue-tied by the prowess the brothers had displayed with the sword. She considered herself a very capable swords-woman but the brothers were leagues above her in their skill and ability to read the opponent. _The way Eragon held his ground, his speed and grace and at the same time the strength of his defence, that Shout! _Her only regret was that she was on the far-side of the training ground and was therefore unable to see that clearly and had therefore missed the last minute change of position that Eragon had done…she was focused on Murtagh's attack that she had missed the manner of his evasion. This frustrated her as she wanted to learn as much as she could from them but was hesitant to ask Eragon himself. Then she remembered spotting Blodhgarm, her tutor on the other side of the field, observing the brothers fight.

_Surely he must have noticed what he had done! I must ask him! _And without another thought, Arya dashed from her room in Tialdari Hall towards the swordmaster's home.

* * *

Eragon and Murtagh, along with their dragons were waiting with Arya at a the top of cliff that stretched for several miles along either direction and was about a thousand feet above the floor of the forest that stretched beyond until it disappeared over the horizon. They had come to meet their of the blue Eragon heard that all too familiar _thud_s that mark the wingbeats of a dragon. From below the edge of the cliff rose a huge gold dragon with a Rider on its back.

* * *

_Several days later…._

Eragon sat on a small bluff, watching the sun set over Du Weldervarden… He had been unable to take rest during the afternoon, as was his habit and therefore had gone for a run, covering more than five miles in less than half-an-hour in a wide circle around the borders of the city before he discovered the small bluff overlooking the forests…delighted by what he had found, Eragon crossed his legs and sat down enjoying the early morning calm and tranquility…and trying to calm his mind. He had left Thorn and Saphira with Glaedr-elda earlier that day, the younger dragons eager to learn much more of the elder's flying techniques.

He received a joyous greeting from his beloved Sapphire and he showed her where he was, as she was preparing to take off, he requested her to bring along something. She agreed.

A few moments later and she joined him, landing softly behind him and dropping his flute into his lap from her paws.

Eragon took a deep breath to calm himself before closing his eyes and raising the flute to his mouth…he breathed slowly through the instrument, his fingers playing lightly on the holes, creating a music that was both soft and mournful….it was the product of the sadness that resided in his heart, in his mind, but _not _in his soul…his repentance….his salvation…

The song lasted for a few minutes, Saphira humming along….her own soft tune amplifying the music… amplifying the atmosphere of sadness and then with a final low note that Eragon stretched for as long as he could, the song ended. Opening his eyes, he blinked away the few tears that threatened to fall before taking a deep breath to steady himself and detected the smell of crushed pinecones…_What? _ His eyes flew wide open and he turned around to look into the eyes of the last person he expected to see, _Arya._

What shocked him even more was the fact that she was crying, streams of tears running down either cheek, but she had a soft smile on her face. He was angry that she had intruded on a moment as private as that and he wanted to ask her what in the names of the Nine she was doing but refrained…Eragon was aware in the back of his mind that Saphira was watching the scene with amusement.

"That was the most beautiful music that I have ever heard, Eragon and perhaps, the saddest one as well. Why don't you play more often?" she asked as she sat down beside him, wiping her eyes clean on her sleeves.

Eragon didn't reply but turned to watch the sun sink below the horizon, coloring the sky red with its last rays. Something passed between the two ladies who where there, which was concealed from him. Puzzled he was about to ask Saphira about it, when he felt Arya's soft warm hands overlap his own. Startled, Eragon looked at her curiously, only to have her lean closer and whisper, "I now understand that this was something that was very dear to you and that it was wrong of me to eavesdrop. But, I was worried for you, you disappeared immediately after Oromis-ebithril dismissed us! I wanted to talk to you, but you were not there and so I followed."

Eragon nodded, accepting her reasons, but a warmth bubbled inside his chest as he realized that she wanted to _talk _with him! Moreover, she was even _worried _for him!

Once again, Arya spoke first, "now will you tell me why you play alone, when the music that you produce is of such excellent quality?"

Eragon thought for a long time, but couldn't come to a decision, his mind and heart were telling him opposite things! So he asked Saphira and she replied that he should tell her, but provided that she wouldn't reveal it to others.

Eragon agreed to her suggestion and turned to Arya, to find her looking expectantly at him. "I will tell you, but you must promise to me that you won't tell of this to anyone else, not without my permission."

"I swear." And the ancient language bound her to her words.

"Have you ever killed another person, Arya?" he turned to look into her widening eyes and answered the question, "no, of course not. Take it from me Arya, it is not a pleasing experience, to have to snatch away the life of another, to cause great pain to that person's friends and relatives and I have done this hundreds of times." He took a deep breath and sighed.

"Do you know what the worst part is? It's the fact that I AM A DRAGON! The dragon within me enjoys killing someone as just retribution for their sins, and I enjoy the thrill of the combat, of the hunt!"

Eragon was shaking by this time, not used to unburdening himself on anybody other than Saphira, he felt awkward.

"Therefore, I play this flute as repentance for my actions, in remembrance of all those whose lives I have cut short and those who will lose theirs at my hands in the future."

He took deep breaths and calmed himself down by thinking of his first sight of High Hrothgar. The sheer magnificence and awe that the memory brought always made him smile and this time was no different. But then, he felt Arya squeeze his hand and whisper, "you are a very good man, my friend. That you feel remorse for taking lives of others proves so, no matter what the dragon in you feels, your heart is true." She paused for a moment before asking, "I have a favor to ask of you."

Eragon cleared his throat before saying, "and I will grant it if it is in my power to do so."

"Whenever you play again, I would like to be there." She whispered, her eyes suspiciously wet.

Eragon was deeply moved by that, for some reason and he felt drawn to her, "Alright, I will inform you beforehand."

She nodded before turning to see the sun set over Du Weldervarden, their shoulders touching and their hearts in peace.

* * *

**A couple of things: firstly, this chapter is short, I know, but cut me some slack guys! **

**I deliberately left out the part where the brothers meet Oromis and Glaedr because its repetitive and didn't want my friend to have to type even more than she did. And the next chapter will take some time as I plan to type it myself and that will only happen once the cast is removed from my hand.**

**Review!**


	8. Chapter 8: A Dream and The Septims

**AN: I am finally completely healed! Huzzah! And I rushed to finish this chapter in two days! **

**A warning, many things described below are different from the Elder Scrolls Lore but I tried to do my best, please don't judge me harshly!**

**About Murtagh's and Eragon's rider swords? Wait and Watch!**

**Restrained Freedom:Thanks for the support so far! I have tried to make Eragon and Murtagh different from each other but since this fic is Eragon-centric, Murtagh may get a bit sidelined….but just to make it clear, Murtagh is the better swordsman.. Eragon is just more clever!**

**Pearce: thanks for all the support, really appreciate it!**

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**Chapter 8: A Dream and The Septims**

_He was in a strange land, the sky above glowed with bright blue, purple and red and the constellations seem so much more closer. The land around him was beautiful, wild blossoms and glades with burbling streams around every corner. He was walking through waist-high grasses towards a vision in the distance, a gleaming hall. It seemed to beckon him closer and Eragon walked off the hill towards the hall. Suddenly he was inside the mead hall and he was surrounded by various men and women of legend and they were singing a song, whose words struck him like the blows of a hammer:_

_Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin  
naal ok zin los vahriin  
wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!  
Ahrk fin norok paal graan  
fod nust hon zindro zaan  
Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!_

_Huzrah nu, kul do od,  
wah aan bok lingrah vod  
Ahrk fin tey, boziik fun, do fin gein!  
Wo lost fron wah ney dov  
ahrk fin reyliik do jul  
voth aan suleyk wah ronit faal krein_

_Ahrk fin kel lost prodah,  
Do ved viing ko fin krah,  
Tol fod zeymah win kein meyz fundein!  
Alduin, feyn do jun,  
kruziik vokun staadnau,  
voth aan bahlok wah diivon fin lein!_

_Nuz aan sul, fent alok,  
fod fin vul dovah nok,  
fen kos nahlot mahfaeraak ahrk ruz!  
Paaz Keizaal fen kos stin nol bein Alduin jot!_

_Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin  
naal ok zin los vahriin  
wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!  
Ahrk fin norok paal graan  
fod nust hon zindro zaan  
Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!_

_(Dragonborn, Dragonborn  
by his honor is sworn  
To keep evil forever at bay!  
And the fiercest foes rout  
when they hear triumph's shout,  
Dragonborn, for your blessing we pray!_

_Hearken now, sons of snow,  
to an age, long ago  
and the tale, boldly told, of the one!  
Who was kin to both wyrm  
and the races of man  
with a power to rival the sun_

_And the Scrolls have foretold  
of black wings in the cold,  
that when brothers wage war come unfurled!  
Alduin, Bane of Kings,  
ancient shadow unbound,  
with a hunger to swallow the world!_

_But a day, shall arise,  
when the dark dragon's lies,  
will be silenced forever and then!  
Fair Alagaesia will be free from foul Alduin's maw!_

_Dragonborn, Dragonborn  
by his honor is sworn  
To keep evil forever at bay!  
And the fiercest foes rout  
when they hear triumph's shout,  
Dragonborn, for your blessing we pray!)_

Eragon woke up covered in sweat and short shivers running up and down his spine. Blinking a few times he got off his bed and walked over to where Saphira lay. Rubbing her snout gently, he resumed walking over to the balcony, noticing that the silent night still held the forest in its clutches. Breathing deeply, he tried to calm himself but the words of the song kept repeating in his mind. He noticed immediately that the words were of the _Dovah-tinvaak, _the tongue of the dragons.

_What is it, Little One? Why are you awake at this hour? _Saphira suddenly asked, her concern for him evident.

He turned around and smiled at her, _I had a strange dream… _he shared the memories of the dream with her and she was silent for a long time, absorbing all that the images said. _So you think that Alduin is going to return? _she asked.

_My fear is that he might have already returned and we are unprepared to face him! _

Eragon felt that Saphira was about to protest but he cut her off, _think about it, Saphira. Why am I a Dovahkiin? Dovakiin nuvah los mahnd do faal Stahdim. Ahrk waan Alduin lost meyz rigir, ruz zu'u mindok dii vuun!_

[A Dragonborn's presence is the decision of the Divines. And if Alduin has come back, then I know my destiny!]

Saphira had nothing to say to that, but added, _if he has returned then we will defeat him together, but first talk to Kynareth, ask the Goddess if your dreams are prophetic._

Eragon sent his agreement to her._ Now come, rest under my wing, Little One, sleep. _And so he did.

* * *

"_YOL TUUR SHUL!" _Murtagh shouted.

"_FEIM!" _Eragon shouted in turn.

The red flames from Murtagh passed simply through Eragon as his own body turned ethereal, his shout reaching into the void and turning his body translucent and spirit-like. Murtagh grinned, appreciating his brother's trick.

He waited a few moments before Eragon returned to his physical self and the brother's clashed again, dragonborn against dragonborn, thu'um against thu'um and sword against sword. Finally, after over an hour of incessant combat, the two stood shaking and taking in deep breaths, hands resting on swords buried in the ground.

"Excellently fought, Dovahkiin!" Blodhgarm said as he approached the formerly-sparring brothers. "Well fought, the both of you. Hmm, " he paused, stroking the blue fur on his chin, " I feel that both of you have excelled in fighting each other and so the time has come that you fight others and multiple foes. Yes, I believe that will be for the best, come tomorrow and I will introduce to your sparring foes."

The brothers slouched off to their quarters for a quick bath before returning to Oromis-ebithril for their lessons.

After having bathed and changing his clothes, Eragon headed to Arya's quarters for she was supposed to join them during their lessons. Walking into Tialdari Hall, Eragon proceeded to Arya's chambers at the far end of the Hall and knocked at her door. She responded, "who is it?"

Eragon didn't reply but waited patiently for her to open the doors which she did a moment later, an angry look on her face. "Didn't you hear my question?" she asked angrily only to widen her eyes in surprise. "Eragon! Why didn't you say that it was you? Come in!" She was wearing a light lemon green colored tunic with white trousers and she looked beautiful. Eragon said so and was delighted to see her blush and smile softly, "could I interest you in a cup of tea? We still have some time." She led him to a couple of deep-seated chairs beside a large window that overlooked the Gardens, bidding him to seat.

_Yes, indeed have some tea with the lovely princess! _Saphira said in his mind _And don't mind me._

Eragon nodded to Arya before replying _and what was I supposed to do? My beloved dragon was missing since the early morning, apparently she was too busy showing off her hunting skills and one-upping her own brother._

He felt her scoff in irritation and withdraw completely, well almost. She was still connected enough to listen to his thoughts. But he could tell that she wasn't really upset.

He turned his attention to Arya who was still stirring some water in a porcelain kettle, adding some sweet smelling herbs and some honey. Then, she used a strainer and poured the contents into two cups before bringing them over and handing one to him, smiling all the while. As Eragon raised the cup to his lips and tasted the tea, he found it to be delicious, the bitterness of the herbs was well balanced with the sweetness of the honey.

"Its delicious! Basil and blackcurrant, isn't it?"

"Yes," she nodded, a sharp motion that betrayed the fact that she wasn't human.

They shared a comfortable silence with Eragon's eyes downcast and his thoughts inward, reflecting on the dream that he had earlier that morning while Arya was observing him keenly.

"Something is bothering you, isn't it?" she asked.

"Hmm?" Eragon was startled out of his reverie. He couldn't lie, the Ancient Language wouldn't allow him and he didn't want to, not to Arya, who had over the months since he had come to Ellesmera had become a close friend.

"Yes, I had a dream last night and this dream forced me to come to terms with some questions that have been nagging at me from the time I came to know that I was dragonborn."

Arya, apparently having finished her tea, placed her elbows on her knees and rested her face in the cup of her palms, her eyes bright and wide with interest.

"What is my role in Alagaesia? What will Saphira and I write on the currents of time? Every dragonborn before us was born during a time of great turmoil and danger. Is that true this time as well? If so, what does that danger encompass, for I can't see any danger right now from where I stand."

She looked at him in an odd manner, as if seeing him in a new light before blinking rapidly, "ofcourse you have a great role to play in the future for you are Dovahkiin and therefore driven by the hand of fate," she paused, "But how did your dream bring about this chain of thought?"

"I was in a strange and beautiful land and in this land, I come across a mead hall of dizzying beauty and grandeur; in this mead hall there were warriors of legend and they broke into song on seeing me. They sang of the return of the World-Eater, the Bane of Kings: Alduin; they also sang of the Dovahkiin, the one destined to finally destroy Alduin. Is that me? Or is it my brother? Either way, I don't want to know!", Eragon sighed and massaged his forehead with two fingers, "but what I am really worried about is the fact that Alduin, at this very moment might be out there, gathering his strength and simply waiting for the opportune moment to strike at us, and we would've been completely clueless, were it not for this 'dream'!"

"Now that you've had this dream, what do you intend to do?" Arya asked, worry creasing her brows.

Eragon was taken aback by the complete trust she had in him, she didn't even question his interpretation of the dream!

"Only thing I can do, talk to ebithlar and ask for them to alert the Order to be on the lookout for unusual activities. And I will personally talk to Delphine and Karliah, maybe even Paarthunax. The old one is keenly atuned to the flow of time and he is the first one to know if his brother returns."

Arya got up and offered her hand to Eragon, "then lets not waste any more time." Eragon nodded before taking the proferred hand before walking into the gardens where Saphira waited.

* * *

"It isn't unusual for the races of men and elves to have such dreams, harbingers of dark times in the future…." Oromis trailed off. He and Glaedr had listened carefully to what Eragon and Saphira had to say. They (the three students and Oromis) were seated in his room, around a large circular table with the dragons outside, listening carefully to all that was being said.

Glaedr picked up from where Oromis had left, "but the two of you, my students, are _Dovahkiin, _the first men to be such since Emperor Martin Septim, two hundred years ago. You are also students of _fin Wuth Gein _and therefore attuned to the flow of time which makes this more worrisome."

Everyone was quiet for a while, going over all that had been discussed until Oromis cleared his throat. "….well I think that it is best to move on with today's lessons and put this matter behind us for the moment. SO…. What are we going to discuss today?" he asked of his students.

"How about what you had mentioned earlier, the Oblivion Crisis and Martin Septim's role in ending it?" Arya asked, eyes bright and curious.

"Hmm, well it would be an interesting topic to discuss," Oromis started, "And is of obvious value to the two of you, Dovahkiin" Glaedr completed.

"This story begins with Tiber Septim, first Emperor of all Alagaesia." Oromis began, his voice rising slowly with the sheer legacy of said Emperor.

"Tiber Septim! A man whose very name seems made for legends. Tiber Septim! Dovahkiin, the first emperor of united Alagaesia. Tiber Septim, the man who became the Talos, the God of War.

He was born two thousand years ago, as Hjalti, in the city of Windhelm, the City of Ysgrammor! He was born into a family that could trace its lineage to the earliest Atmoran settlers."

At this point, he was interrupted by Arya, "where is this Windhelm?"

Eragon answered for his master, "on the northernmost edge of the Spine, north of Narda, on the shores of the Sea of Ghosts. A city that has the worst weather in our kingdom, but a city steeped in history and whose very walls tell the tales of our blood and tears."

Oromis resumed his tale, "To cut a rather long story short, Hjalti was summoned to High Hrothgar on his twentieth birthday to meet Paarthunax where he was declared to be Dovahkiin; something that I am sure Eragon and Murtagh can relate to. Hjalti believed from this point on, rightly or wrongly, that it was his destiny to unite the various kingdoms and forge one single, unified Empire.

Besides being almost invincible in combat, he was a brilliant tactician and had a charismatic personality, a persona that was so magnetic that men, elves and even the dov joined him in his quest to create one empire. He defeated the Ayleids, who ruled over much of the land, forged an alliance with the Wood-Elf Nation by marrying the then Princess, convinced the Riders to join him and ofcourse, the Blades were with him from the very beginning.

By the time his lightning campaign to drive the feared Ayleids from the Lands ended, he was hailed by people all over as their hero, their savior. They took to call him Talos, the God of War. He was crowned as Emperor Tiber Septim and eventually died at the astonishing age of 247. It is said that at his funeral in the temple of Akatosh, a bright white light surrounded the Sarcophagi and fires erupted at the temple's altars and Akatosh himself said in a voice resounding with power and authority that the Pantheon of the Eight had become the Nine. The fires that erupted to life were the Eternal Flames which guarded the portals between Oblivion and Mundus. As long as one of the Septims sat on the White Throne, Mundus would remain safe from Oblivion. This was proof that Tiber Septim was indeed a God. Now had he been a God from the very beginning or did he ascend to that position is a question that has been debated forever but it is highly unlikely that a satisfactory answer will ever be found…." Oromis sighed before reaching for some faelnirv, talking was thirsty work!

"ever since then, each and every Emperor and Empress of the Septim bloodline was a Dovahkiin, down to the last emperor, Martin Septim. Two hundred years ago, a cult worshipping the Daedric Prince of Change and Destruction, Mehrunes Dagon hatched a plot to assassinate the emperor and thus extinguish the flames, enabling Mehrunes to enter this plane and rule over all of Alagaesia."

"The Mythic Dawn…." Murtagh whispered. The brothers knew this story by heart, all of Carvahall did… the story of one of the Sons of the North becoming a God and of his dynasty was history itself…it was a shame that none were left alive of the Septim line.

"They were successful to some extent, Emperor Uriel was murdered and the Flames were extinguished and Oblivion Gates opened up all across the land and Dremora armies spilled forth, massacring thousands upon thousands of people. The Legion fought back as did every other kingdom's armies and the Riders and the dragons aided us in every way possible. But what can men and mer do against the Daedra? All hope seemed lost for without a Septim, how could one stop this unending tide? I was there myself as were your parents, Arya…those were the darkest times I have ever faced and I sincerely hope that no one has to go through a trial like that again…"

Oromis shuddered and took a deep breath…"but all wasn't lost…a Septim still lived. Martin Septim was still alive, the Blades had secured him moments before his father was murdered. He along with the Legendary Hero of Kvatch fought and what remained of the Blades and the Riders fought back against the hordes of Mehrunes Dagon and raced against time to reach the Imperial City to seal off the gates.

When he did reach the city, it was almost too late, a massive Dremora army was laying siege to the city and it seemed that impossible to enter the city….until your great-grandfather arrived," Oromis looked to Eragon and Murtagh.

"Publius Varrus, he was a Chevalier of the North, and had heard that an Emperor still lived… He had rounded up twelve squadrons, a mere four hundred and eighty cavaliers and had ridden for Illirea to aid the Emperor. In a manner that bespoke his great courage, your great grandfather led his men in a frontal charge against the Dremora and drove them off the city gates, enabling the Legionnaires within to sally out and assault the enemy, winning the battle. Martin Septim and the Hero of Kvatch proceeded to the temple to discover that Mehrunes Dagon had already come to Mundus!

Despair seeped through the ranks of the allies, how could anyone hope to defeat a Daedric Lord in his full strength? That is when Martin Septim took a decision that makes him, in my eyes, the greatest ruler ever; he sacrificed himself at the Altar of Akatosh and offered his own soul to the Divine, bidding him to save his people. Akatosh responded and through the emperor's soul he entered Mundus in the form of a Dragon, a dragon made of fire! In a titanic clash, the Divine fought Dagon, eventually defeating him and banishing him back to Oblivion….

Akatosh created a statue of a dragon in place of the flames that permanently sealed away the Oblivion Gates…and thus ended the worst crisis to befall this land of ours…..as did the greatest line of Emperors."

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**So what do you folks think? Review and tell me!**


	9. Chapter 9: To Care for Someone

**AN: Hi guys, chapter nine is ready! This chapter is basically just ExA fluff. So, I sincerely hope you good folks enjoy this!**

**Restrained Freedom: the story told therein is central to some aspects of the plot later on! I will reveal no more!**

**Niet boeiend: no the lore wasn't cannon…I hope you like this chapter…**

**Remember to review….**

* * *

**Chapter 9: To Care For Someone**

"Looking for my brother? He is up in his rooms" Murtagh said as Arya walked upto the massive tree-house that the twins lived in. It was on an oak tree that was close to two hundred years old, and the tree house was actually two tree houses connected by a center aisle, each wing was in a different side of the tree and occupied several layers of branches. She had been to Eragon and Saphira's rooms before, but she was surprised to see Murtagh at the base of the staircase that early in the morning…the day and the following two days had been earmarked by Oromis-elda for more leisurely activities than the usually strenuous training schedule.. "What are you doing up so early?" she asked the man. He smiled before replying, "Thorn and I are going for a looong flight and we, or rather he decided that it was best to start early in the morning so that we can enjoy the cool air.." and as he said that, said dragon glided down from his perch in the treetops. No sooner had the crimson dragon landed than Murtagh jumped up into the saddle and the pair flew off, buffeting Arya with strong gusts of wind and forcing her to hold down the edges of the dress that she wore.

She walked up the stairs and entered the right wing where Eragon lived, finding the door open, she walked into see Saphira's post empty and the large teardrop portal open, meaning that the blue dragoness wasn't present. Continuing further into the well-kept house, Arya found the person she was looking for on the balcony, if a term like that could be used to describe the wide open space at the very edge of the tree house, shirtless and going through the paces of the Dance of the Snake and the Crane. His back was facing her and the rising sun's light framed his rather muscular arms and chest, giving him a golden silhouette. Arya' s breath caught and her throat tightened as she saw him, she couldn't help her eyes roam over his muscular back and arms and the very pose that he was doing meant that his arms were flexed and the impressive biceps were quite clearly visible. His physique was something Arya tried not to think about, lest her knees became weak and she stumbled but bumping into him shirtless, on a fine morning meant that she couldn't do anything but.

Taking a deep breath, she calmed her nerves and called out, "good morning Eragon."

He was bent over in a particularly precarious condition and her voice broke his concentration and he spluttered, trying to look at her while recovering his balance, a very difficult thing to do. Thus, he ended up on the wooden floor, head first and broke his nose.

Arya was aghast, she had purposefully intended to make him fall, but had no idea that it would hurt him.

"Sorry!" She rushed to his side and helped him up before stepping closer to get a closer look at his bleeding nose, his eyes were watery from the pain and the cartilage had shattered, badly. Blood was running down his muscular chest and the nose was starting to swell. She muttered another apology before stepping even closer, resting her left hand on his chest as her other hand healed him. Once done, she leaned in and kissed him on the now intact nose… as she did so, she was highly conscious of her fingers which were gently, deliberately tracing the muscles on his chest while the both of his hands were at the lower portion of her back, just above her waist.

He squeezed her back, "its fine, really. More so after you healed it and the kiss made it better than ever…" he smiled warmly as Arya imitated a ripe tomato before brushing a stray strand of hair behind her pointy ears. She blushed even harder and let go of his warmth, albeit reluctantly.

He stepped around her and headed back in, asking over his shoulder, "have you had anything for breakfast?"

She replied in the negative and he nodded before turning around, taking her hand and dragging her over to the dining table and forcing her to sit. Then just as quickly, he disappeared into what she supposed was the storeroom…emerging a few moments later with a large serving plate bearing a loaf of plate, fresh cheese and a bowl of black olives.

"EAT."

"Thank you," she replied smiling at him. He nodded, "leave the plate here once you're done, I will go and have a quick bath. Feel free to go over any books you want to in the reading room." She didn't say anything as he walked off into the washroom with a bathrobe and a towel in hand….

* * *

"So have you thought about what you're going to do today?" Arya asked the man sitting beside her as he tore into the bread with gusto.

He looked up at her, eyebrows raised in a silent question. She answered the unvoiced question, "I have nothing to do today, so I decided to spend my time with …you." He nodded, smiling widely, before swallowing and answering slowly, "well normally I go for a run…but that time is long gone…I had planned to," his voice dropped to a mere whisper, "I wanted to go the Menoa Tree and play…my flute." His gaze dropped and his eyes filled up with remorse.

Arya's heart gave a tug and she felt proud that her friend had the heart to feel remorse for the lives that he had taken, justified though his actions may be. She reached and firmly grasped his hand, "I will come with you." He looked up at her and smiled sadly, acknowledging her support…"then…" his voice was normal once again, "there is the matter of giving Saphira a good massage….her wing muscles are a bit stiff, but you don't have to stay for that…its rather messy." She shook her head, "I want to be around for that…I have never known that dragons get muscle cramps!"

"Well, take it from me that they do…I am only grateful that I am not Murtagh! Thorn is much more bulky than his sister, so his rider has a rather hard time whenever he gets wing-aches." Eragon got up and picked up the plates and took them to the sink. Done, he went into his bedroom to pick up his flute and took a good look around to make sure that he wasn't forgetting anything. Arya was waiting for him by the door and he smiled at her, holding the door open for her, she shook her head at his chivalry before walking outside…

* * *

_An hour later…._

Arya took Eragon's hands in her own and squeezed it…feeling the calluses born of years of sword-wielding, before leaning in and giving him a feather light kiss on the cheek, "every time you play, shivers run up and down my spine….truly, you play beautifully, my friend." He smiled as well, before blinking away the few tears that were threatening to spill over…The pair were perched atop one of the branches of the Menoa Tree…at a height great enough to avoid detection by the casual observer…and Saphira was three branches below them.

Just then, Eragon's eyes grew hazy and he seemed to be lost in thought…a moment later it cleared and he turned to her, "you didn't feel that?" She shook her head, puzzled at the sudden change in their conversation…then she felt Eragon's mind brush against her own…

_Open your mind, Arya…meld it with mine and Saphira's._

_What? But why? You know how intimate sharing one's mind can be, why would I do this? _She asked aghast at his request.

_Because you need to see this…trust me, Arya. No harm will ever come to you. _Eragon said, squeezing her hand. _Do as my Little One says, princess. _Saphira added her voice.

Arya reluctantly agreed and gasped at the sheer vastness of Eragon's and Saphira's shared consciousness which surrounded her own mind and finally like a wave crashing on a shingle beach, her barriers withdrew completely and her mind became one with theirs. She heard the proud, lofty music that was reverberating within Eragon's minds and in turn felt Eragon's consciousness adjusting to the new conditions…all three of them were careful to not stray into private memories of the other…

And then she felt Eragon taking a deep breath and whisper _Raas…_

And the world was covered by a blanket of red… and her vision darkened..she panicked not understanding what was happening and then Eragon soothed her.

_Shh…its fine, look through my eyes, dear. _Arya wondered at his addressing her as 'dear' but brushed it off…come to think of it, Eragon and Saphira were very dear to her as well and she felt quite pleased that he felt the same way about her.

She heard Eragon and Saphira chuckle in her mind and she blushed, she had forgotten that they could hear every thought of hers..

_You are dear to us, Arya Drottningu…_the dragon and rider pair said together, _but we believe that we had asked you to look through our eyes…_

She did as they had asked and her jaw dropped…to her the whole world seemed alit, filled with blinking red silhouettes, the Menoa Tree was a bright as the sun, the trees around the clearing were burning like stars in the night sky and she could see other shapes moving beyond, whose shapes suggested that they were the various animals who called the forests their home…she felt Eragon's head turn and she beheld people far away as well glowing red…and then Eragon beheld the ground beneath them and then there was darkness…until Eragon expanded his mind to feel for the consciousness of other beings and then from the dark ground, like mushrooms, many hundreds of tiny candlelights sprouted into existence. And then the spectacular vision ended and she felt the minds of Saphira and Eragon withdraw and just as they were about to leave hers completely, she said to Eragon, _don't! Stay connected.. _she was blushing again her fair cheeks turning pink but Eragon smiled and did as she asked. She wasn't quite sure why she had asked him to do it, but their connection felt _good _and _homely_ for lack of better words and she didn't want that feeling to end.

As she returned to herself, she asked the rider, "that was a shout obviously, but what exactly happened?"

"You remember Oromis-elda's lessons on meditation and trying to detect all of Life with our minds?" he began.

Of course she did, she was rather embarrassed that he had brought it up; it was one of the few areas where the brothers outperformed her consistently…Her skills with the sword had improved considerably, courtesy of several sparring matches with Eragon. The first few matches resulted her getting beaten soundly inside of a few minutes and that was a grave insult to her pride and therefore she took it upon herself to improve her skills….nowadays, her matches with Eragon were….interesting …to say the least.

Returning her mind to her previous train of thought, she felt that her skills in logical thinking and reasoning were as good as Eragon's or Murtagh's…while her memory far outclassed that of the twins, on their own, however with the addition of the dragons, the tables were turned…

The one thing she truly was glad about was that her skills in mental combat far outstripped the brothers', but she had pledged to help Eragon improve his skill and thus in turn, Murtagh..

She suddenly realized that Eragon wasn't speaking, rather he was smiling at her with a knowing look in his eyes…She realized that he had been privy to all of her thoughts and had known instantly that she wasn't paying attention…

She blushed as he whispered, _it was you who insisted on keeping our minds connected._

"Well, continuing on, do you understand why we are so good at meditation?" he waited only for her to frown and shake her head, before continuing, "its because of that Shout and our previous experience with it; we could already see the Life around us with our eyes…seeing it with our minds was just the next logical step…I wanted to help you overcome any problems that you might be facing and I reckoned that a good way would be to expose you to this Shout, so that you can atleast know where to look with your mind." He shrugged, "I just hope that it helped, we could practice right now to see if it worked?"

Arya didn't listen to the last part of his statement, for a warmth was bubbling inside her heart as she realized that he, the Dovahkiin, cared for _her! _Enough to go out of his way to help her…with something so trivial! He even opened his mind to her and showed what it felt to Shout…no one, she realized trusted her as much as Eragon did..

Eragon, for his part, knew what was going through Arya's mind and his eyes softened, he reached out to tuck a stray strand of ebony hair behind her pointy ears before cupping her face and looking directly into those emerald orbs…"of course I trust you.." he murmured "and I care a lot for you…for you are my dearest friend, Arya…Should you ever need my help, all you need do is ask, alright?"

She blinked as his words registered in her mind, and then surprising even herself, she embraced the young rider, pulling him into a fierce hug, resting her head on her shoulder and wrapping her arms around his waist..he stiffened at first but then relaxed, wrapping one arms around her waist and stroking her hair with the other…

They stayed like that for some time before Arya remembered something, "Eragon," she mumbled from his shoulder, "father and mother wanted to see you."

"WHAT!"the man yelled and attempted to ease out of their hug, but Arya resisted, "they have invited the two of you and Murtagh and Thorn for dinner, we still have hours." Eragon relaxed into her arms on hearing and sighed, "you know what, Arya? This feels nice…"

She kissed his neck in agreement….

* * *

**SO…what do you think? Write a review…please!**


	10. Chapter 10: A Companion?

**AN: Hey folks! Sorry for the inordinate delay but I had to delete the chapter I had originally written after reading the reviews…Since so many of you wanted to see the dinner, I had to comply! This has significantly changed the plotline of the story. I hope you guys like it.**

**About Arya's mental abilities: CP himself had said that elves are naturally proficient when it comes to fighting with the mind, because of their self-discipline and rigorous upbringing…when you grow up, speaking a language where a misspoken word can cause chaos, you tend to be very disciplined in your thoughts. Eragon and Saphira have powerful minds, but they aren't nearly disciplined enough…that will change over the course of this story.**

**Anyway, read and enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 10: A Companion?**

Saphira hummed softly as Eragon massaged her wing-sockets and the muscles on one side while Arya did the other…he scratched below the spot where her wings were joined to her chest, and her humming deepened…

_Ooh that feels …so good….you should stop being a Rider, Little One _Saphira murmured, her voice unusually relaxed…

_And, then, what would he be? _Arya asked. Their minds were still connected.

_A masseuse ofcourse! You should open a parlor in the Imperial City, exclusively for the nobles, we would get filthy rich in no time!_

Arya doubled up, laughing hard at poor Eragon who stood gaping like a fish out of water.

Eragon snapped at the females, _why of course, and you, Saphira will be an amusement ride for children, won't you? While Arya would the most pathetic court jester…_

Said females looked at Eragon, then at each other, then again at him before suddenly bursting into even more hysterical bouts of laughter, and this time, Eragon couldn't resist joining in..

_A couple of hours later…._

* * *

"You sure that I look good?" Eragon asked her for the umpteenth time.

Saphira chuckled, _yes, I'm sure…stop fussing, you look fine, its just a dinner._

"With the King and Queen!"

_Or is it the father and mother of a certain elf-maiden? _She asked a bit too innocently.

"Yeah, well you've got nothing to worry about, all you have to do is lick your scales a few times and you're ready! Times like this I wish I had the body of a dragon in addition to the soul of one…" Eragon trailed off.

Murtagh chose to burst in upon them at that moment…throwing the door wide open and coming to a standstill right in front of his brother who was busy studying his reflection in the full-length mirror.

Eragon studied Murtagh's appearance and thought that he looked the part of a dashing Rider…with his red tight-fitting tunic with white detail work and black trousers. He always knew how to impress others. Then, he realized that said twin was staring at him, with something close to wonderment in his eyes.

"What?" Eragon barked. In response Murtagh laughed out loud before replying, his words mixing up with the laughter, "I don't believe this, my reclusive….antisocial brother….is actually…._wanting _to look good? HAH!"

It was true, Eragon mulled…. He had never really bothered with what he wore to any social event, provided that he even attended one..but then again, most social events do not have Arya.

_Or her parents, _Saphira chimed in.

Murtagh looked positively gleeful, Eragon groaned_, he had heard Saphira_…"Congratulations! You've finally began perceiving women as attractive. For some time, I was worried that my twin brother was a…Ow!" he couldn't complete his statement as he was tackled to the floor by a scowling Eragon.

* * *

Arya was nervous, very nervous. Her mother had given her a dress that she said was similar to one she had worn when her father had first asked her for a dance…For some reason that made her feel giddy with happiness…But now, approaching the treehouse, she hoped that Eragon thought that she looked beautiful…

Walking up the winding stairs to Eragon's room, she once again checked her dress, before knocking on the door…

A short moment later, the door opened and Eragon stood at the doorframe, his mouth agape and his eyes widening, quite similar to what Arya's expression was..

He was wearing a royal blue tunic with dragon runes stitched in gold thread on his shoulders and forearm; coupled with cream-colored trousers….the shirt had a deep V-shaped cut and was close-fitting enough to show his muscular build. Eragon, on the other hand stared at arya, who was wearing a forest green off-the shoulders dress woven in the pattern of vines…its neck was deep enough to give a tantalizing glimpse of the swelling of her breasts. She had put on black eyeliners and her emerald eyes seemed to blaze.

Eragon reached out and took both of her hands, "Wow…you look gorgeous Arya" he said softly. Arya blushed beautifully before squeezing his hands and whispering in equally soft tones, "thank you…you look rather handsome too. Shall we go?"

He nodded and they descended the stairs, pausing long enough for Murtagh to join them." Where are we going?" Murtagh asked the princess.

"To the gardens of Tialdari Hall, of course. Where else would there be enough space for two dragons as large as Thorn and Saphira?"

Murtagh spoke in his mind, _now is the right time._

Eragon simply nodded. And as Murtagh had painstakingly taught him, Eragon gracefully bowed to the lady and silently offered his arm, not betraying his inner nervousness in the slightest. Arya seemed to be in shock, but she recovered and looped her hand through his.

* * *

The dragons arrived first and greeted him, bowing their heads ever so slightly.

He couldn't help but admire the beauty and grace of the red and blue scaled siblings. They had grown tremendously over the past two years, as far as Oromis was concerned… not just physically but also in terms of their skills and maturity… much the same could be said of their riders, Glaedr certainly was all praises for the pair.

Even after all this time, Evandar had still to come to terms with the power and authority the brothers wielded…He still remembered the grandness and majesty of old Uriel Septim…and the arrogance that came with it, but not so with Martin Septim and it seemed not so with the brothers. They were unbelievably modest, especially Eragon…and then there was the dream that said Dovahkiin had seen and it was a dire warning…he shuddered at the thought of facing Alduin. Evandar had seen enough blood and gore during the Oblivion Crisis to last him a thousand years…

Braking his morbid chain of thought, Murtagh arrived, his long legs loping gracefully…he greeted his mate first before approaching him…He smiled, Murtagh had a way with the women-folk, he could draw even the most cold-hearted woman into a pleasant conversation…he supposed that Murtagh had inherited that from his father.

Murtagh was a very interesting human… humorous, charming, smart, hot-blooded, extremely skilled in combat and battle magic but weak in more scholarly and subtle areas….as far as Oromis had opined. He, Evandar decided, would make a fine leader.

And then, the pair that he and Islanzadi had gone through all this trouble for…. Eragon and Arya, walking hand-in-hand obviously pleased with each-other's company, their faces beaming with happiness…he had never seen his daughter so happy in a male's company….come to think of it he hadn't seen his dear daughter in the company of a male who wasn't a teacher, an elder or a relative.

"They make a lovely couple, do they not?" Islanzadi asked from where she stood at his side.

"Indeed they do, and it makes me both happy and sad," he sighed, "happy that my daughter has found a true friend and sad because if things between them continue like this, then our daughter won't be ours for much longer."

"We both knew that this was going to happen one day…and I would prefer Arya having someone like Eragon…." She reached out to take his hand, "Oromis is quite pleased with the young riders, especially Eragon."

Said pair approached the contemplative father and Eragon bowed to him before intoning the traditional greeting…

* * *

Eragon was surprised to learn that the feast was solely for them and the Royal Family….no Lords or Ladies were in attendance…The next thing he noticed was the lack of servants…not that he had ever seen servants in his considerable time among the elves, but he had expected that the Ruling house would atleast have house stewards. He determined to query of it to Oromis-ebithril during their next lesson. The queen herself served everyone, aided albeit by generous amounts of magic.

The feast was sumptuous. The brothers enjoyed it immensely as did the dragons, even though meat was conspicuous in its absence. The conversation around the table was light hearted and Eragon found himself enjoying the company of the King and Queen.

_Arya is clearly a mix of her father and mother, _Saphira said in his mind.

_Aye, the Queen's beauty and grace with the King's wisdom and wit…not that Islanzadi isn't wise or Evandar isn't graceful…you get my meaning., _Eragon replied.

As the feast drew to a close, Evandar shared a meaningful look with his mate and she nodded…

Clearing her throat, the Queen spoke in her clear stern voice, "Eragon, Saphira and Arya… if you would stay behind…Evandar and I have something to discuss with you."

Eragon paled on hearing that _had Arya said something against him? _His throat dried up at the thought of facing angry parents. He nodded absentmindedly to the queen.

Saphira meanwhile was having a difficult time suppressing her laughter, on the outside, others would have thought that she was having a coughing fit.

After a moment, Arya and Murtagh started laughing as well and Eragon reddened in a mix of outrage and embarrassment.

_Don't worry dear, you've given me no reason to complain. Besides, I think I can handle you myself…_Arya replied slyly, brushing her leg against his under the table. Eragon raised an eyebrow on hearing that but didn't voice his thoughts.

Murtagh excused himself and after thanking the King and Queen profusely, retired to his home, but not before throwing a questioning look at his brother.

_We'll talk later, once I'm done here. _Eragon sent back.

Evandar took his mate's hand and gestured at Eragon to follow him. Confused, Eragon looked at Arya, but she shrugged before extending her hand towards him.

* * *

The residential chambers of Tialdari hall were palatial, but then again, they were meant to be so.

Eragon was in the outer room, meant clearly for receiving guests, but he could see three wide passageways leading further in.

The room, which was more of a hall, was painted a light blue, with gold and silver veins running in the corners, creating fantastic patterns. Fairths depicting various places and events hung on the walls. Eragon recognized some, High Hrothgar, Carvahall, Illirea, what he supposed must have been Doru Araeba and Tronjheim.

In the center of the room was a beautiful desk, carved from rosewood and enameled with ivory, off to a side was a glass table and additional high-backed armchairs…but they certainly appeared far more comfortable than the Knotted Throne.

Evandar sat near the table and clapped his hands. The chairs organized themselves in a circle around the table, surprising Eragon; he had expected the King to sit behind the desk.

_The circle provides a semblance of equality, much like the round table in High Hrothgar. The king honors us with this gesture, _Saphira noted.

Eragon agreed, _the elves are very subtle with their politic, aren't they?_

_Aye, remember, you are Dovahkiin and therefore, should it come to it, you can afford to disobey a direct order, although I doubt it would come to that._

_Let us hope not._

Eragon had hoped that his internal conversation hadn't reflected on his face, but as he sat by Arya's side, he noticed a gleam in the eyes of the Queen and he realized that she had probably made out what he was thinking.

"You must be terribly confused by this sudden development, I'm sure," Evandar began, "but at the outset let me make it plain that no matter what is the outcome of the discussion that is take place, it won't affect anything in any manner."

Eragon nodded, unsure of where exactly the king was leading to. In the back of his mind, he was aware of Saphira paying great attention to every word.

"I still remember the day when the four of you first came here, accompanied by the Lord Rider and Dragon. I remember wondering at that time as to what made you so special that Vrael himself accompanied and why had you even come here…then I got to see and was I surprised! Wearing the armor of Nocturnal, with the rings of the Blades on your fingers and branded with the Gedwey Ignasia…only to learn that wasn't all, you were Dovahkiin as well…Dovahkiin!" the king smiled ruefully and Eragon couldn't help but reminisce on that day two years ago.

"I still am shocked, sometimes over how much you are, when I pause to think about it…there was a furor in the Council the next day. Several lords and ladies were upset that your identities had been kept a secret for so long," he help up his palm to forestall Eragon, "Vrael and I tried our best to justify Paarthunax-elda's decision, but there is still resentment among some…"

Eragon wasn't too greatly surprised by this, he had encountered some hostility, but he had taken it in his stride. But he couldn't help but voice his thoughts, "its envy, isn't it? It has to be, only three Dovahkiin have ever been elves…"

Evandar nodded, taken by surprise by Eragon's insight. But then again, he was a dragon.

"Yes, but if you say so, they would deny it most vehemently," Islanzadi sighed.

By now Eragon was even more confused, "My lord, if I may be so bold, why would you even tell me this? If anything, I might develop a negative against the elven nation…"

Said lord laughed aloud and his mate smiled…"I like you a lot, Eragon, straight and blunt, just like Brom! Why do I tell you this? So that you understand the gravity of what I am about to propose…but we will get to that later…how old are you?"

Eragon blinked, taken by surprise by the sudden curiosity about his age, "um..twenty six…why?"

Evandar ignored the 'why', "and at what age did you start taking on military responsibilities?"

"When I was first knighted…that would be, yes since the age of sixteen."

Islanzadi's and Arya's eyes went wide. "Sixteen, isn't that too young?" the Queen asked.

"No, it isn't. Not for humans anyway. They live short mortal lives and therefore everything occurs at what we would see as an accelerated pace…but for humans, it is normal, am I right?" Evandar said.

Eragon nodded.

"Well, elves are considered adults at the age of twenty…but they aren't formally recognized as such until they have undergone a right of passage into adulthood." The king continued.

"Which is?" Eragon asked, curious.

"A young elf is sent to be apprentice to an elder warrior, or scholar, or craftsman, or mage…depending on the elf's choice of occupation…" he paused, before nodding once, to himself as if making sure of a decision.

"My dear daughter," Evandar turned to look at his daughter, "hasn't undergone this right of passage." He announced.

Eragon was now really confused, as was Saphira. _Interesting as this is, why would you tell us about something so personal?, _she asked the King directly.

"Because," the Queen spoke, "we want you, Eragon to become Arya's mentor."

* * *

**Wouldn't it be great if I left it here?**

* * *

"You would what?" Eragon asked.

"You heard her, we want you to become Arya's mentor." Evandar repeated.

Eragon didn't know what to do, so he asked a question, "I am honored that you would even consider me…but,why me? I mean, she is the Princess of the elven nation! You could have asked anyone else, Vrael-elda, Oromis-elda or even father! Why me?"

Arya meanwhile had turned red….she had agreed to Eragon being her mentor…but she was nervous that he wouldn't agree.

"All sound suggestions…but look at it logically….Vrael is the leader of the Riders, he barely has anytime to look after the order and deal with all the Monarchies…Oromis is more or less, stagnant here. He is a teacher and therefore spends most of his time in Du Weldervarden. Arya needs to see the outside world so that she can learn of other cultures and traditions…your father is the Protector of Carvahall and therefore limited to that one kingdom. You, my dear friend, are perfect if every way, you are **Dovahkiin**_**, **_between you and Saphira, few can harm her. You will, as young riders, travel all over the land and so will Arya, that is if you agree. Furthermore, the two of you are fast friends and I would prefer Arya to have a companion she can be open with during the next few years. Besides, you have been out in the world, leaving on your own for nigh on ten years, isn't that right? You can teach her so many things… swordplay, tracking, stealth, infiltration and even more….which time will only tell. So will you and Saphira accept?"

Eragon took a deep breath, thinking over all that the King had said. _He makes valid points, you know. _Saphira said. _So you accept? _He asked her.

_Would be so bad to have her with us? Most likely, Murtagh and Thorn will be given separate duties from us and therefore we would be alone…Besides, you like her, don't you?_

_That's why I am hesistant about this…I don't want to force her into an uncomfortable position._

_Then ask her if she is ready for this…_

_Aye._

"Before I come to a decision, I have two questions that need answering, first, will Arya hide her identity? And if so, what will I do if other recognize her? "

"Yes, she will. She will be plain Arya, not Drottningu…it is tradition for members of the Royal Family to forego their luxuries during their travels. As for what you will do when others may recognize her, don't worry. She will be wearing a ring marked with the Yawe, which will indicate to all other elves that she is undergoing the right of passage." The queen clarified.

"And your second question?" Evandar asked.

Eragon turned to look at Arya, "are you okay with this?" he asked his dearest friend.

She held his gaze as she answered firmly, "I am."

"_Then we accept this responsibility and may the Divines punish us if we fail" _Eragon and Saphira said together.

* * *

**So what do you think? Tell me in a review!**


	11. Chapter 11: Anxious Developments

**AN: Sorry guys for my abysmal delay…I know that I owe you guys BIIG Time. Real life simply caught up and I found myself unable to concentrate on writing. Hopefully the next chapter will be up in very little time.**

* * *

**Chapter 11: Anxious Developments**

"I have nothing to gain from talking to you…." the Blade kneeling at his feet gurgled, showing his broken, bloodstained teeth…, "I am already a dead man…"

"True," Mrorokei muttered, "but death can come in oh…so many ways…" he smiled but the Blade couldn't see the smile behind the iron mask, nor could he see his torturer's flaming red hair and fanged teeth.

Morokei forced the man's jaws open and shoved a piece of jagged glass into his mouth …. and then he repeatedly punched his face, the glass breaking further inside his mouth with an audible crunch, blood spewed everywhere, but even then, the Blade's mind remained firmly shut. Morokei was impressed to say the least… the Blade had managed to keep his mind disciplined and his thoughts focused on a piece of abstract poetry.

He had taken the Blade captive a few days ago and had tried all ways to learn the secrets of the order and the skills of the Dovahkiin, but alas! The man wouldn't give in.

Then suddenly white foam formed at his mouth and the man's eyes rolled backwards as he slumped forward, clearly dead…

Morokei cursed, that last punch must have loosened a cyanide capsule embedded in his molars… but it didn't matter, he would have to try some other means….

* * *

"You sure that you want to go in?" ,Arya asked, clearly not happy with the prospect of entering the ancient ruin in front of them, especially since Saphira couldn't follow them inside.

"Yes, but not now when it is so late in the night. We'll go in tomorrow at dawn… lets go back to camp and rest for the night." Eragon replied, eyes determined and voice as unyielding as steel.

"Okay." The pair crawled backwards, slowly, so as not to crunch the fresh snow. Once the ruin had disappeared from line-of-sight, they scrambled away into the hills nearby where Saphira awaited. As the blue dragoness traversed the night sky, several thousand feet high in the sky, Arya wrapped her arms around Eragon as tightly as possible, the wind that whipped past was bone-chillingly cold.

They had been resting in Carvahall, enjoying a well-earned break after two months of arduous continuous patrolling along the borders of Surda ….the weather had been horrible… hot and sticky… whenever they would camp at night, hordes of flies and mosquitoes beset them… she shuddered recalling those nights.

The one good thing was that she had Eragon and Saphira for company and Eragon was such a fine cook. She was also learning a lot, merely from watching Eragon as he went about preparing for each new day meticulously, thinking of back-up plans and worst possible scenarios and ways to counter them… Although she was learning a lot, she had been looking forward to spending the winter in the comforts of Carvahall. (To be fair, she did have some blisters in some unfortunate places from sitting on a saddle for too damn long)

She was having a great time in Carvahall… She had met Lady Selena, Eragon's mother, the King and Queen, Eragon's cousin, Roran and her newest friend, Lady Katrina, who was Roran's fiancé. She had enjoyed her time in Carvahall, it being the first human kingdom that she had been exposed to and more importantly, the Kingdom from where Eragon himself hailed and one that was an important ally of the Elven Nation. Carvahall was a very beautiful and lively city, with three main districts: the Plains District, the Wind District and the Cloud District. The Plains district was the lowest level of the city, built literally in the plains area. It was primarily residential in nature, although the marketplace and the local inn were also located therein. The Winds District was built on a tier above the Plains district, named so because of the strong mountain winds that often gust through the area. It was home to the Hall of the Dead, a Temple of Kynareth and a massive statue of Talos. And ofcourse, the Gildergreen Tree too was located in the very center of the Square… a beautiful tree that was said to be a sampling of the Menoa Tree. Off to the right was Jorrvaskr, the Mead-Hall of the legendary Companions, the band of warriors who had originally accompanied Ysgrammor himself and the Skyforge, where the Companions forged their weapons. On the hill that dominates the land for miles was Dragonsreach, the castle in the Cloud District. The large castle was built by High-King Olaf One-Eye, yet another Dragonborn, to imprison a rogue dragon, named Numinex. The Castle was an imposing sight but was actually rather beautifully built… with large pools at both ends of its base and a tapering wooden superstructure that gave it an elegant look. But aside from the beauty, the city's harsh experience during the Oblivion Crisis was also self-evident… harsh, tall stone walls ran all around the large city… even around the massive stables where the mounts of its cavalry were housed… Around the city, four watchtowers stood sentinel, their view of the surrounding plains, unparalleled, except for a dragon of course; and two forts stood, fifteen miles away from the city at each end of the wide road that ran north-to-south. Regular cavalry patrols kept the roads clear of bandits and predators, and each of the outlying farms had a small resident infantry platoon in addition to regular mounted patrols.

Arya had taken some time to adjust to a human society… with the open-minded and simple way of life that the most people live with, sure, their lives were filled with hard toil and had none of the comforts or sheer complacency that elves in Du Weldervarden had… but she felt that the goodwill and happiness that pervaded the atmosphere of every evening as men and women rested, enjoying a cup of mead and listening to the odd song more than made up for it.

But then, all of a sudden, Eragon had received a sealed letter from Arngeir, rushed to the city by an exhausted Blade… and then they were flying into the Spine to this old Atmoran ruin. And so, here they where, in a cave at the base of a mountain, large enough for Saphira to move around comfortably in. She had gotten used to sleep on a simple bedroll in the wild, under a starry sky with nothing other than a fire or Saphira to provide warmth. SO the cave was an improvement….

As she lay on her bedroll, right beside the fire, Arya couldn't take it anymore. Ever since the dragon and her rider had returned from that ruin, they had been very quiet…. Which meant that they were talking privately. Eragon seemed tense and unusually worried, which was rather unusual as well. She had asked him several times what was wrong, but he was avoiding her question.

She decided to try her luck again, albeit through a different route.

_Saphira, what is wrong? The two of you are so unusually tensed and worried…and why is Eragon not answering me. S_he asked the great dragon.

And she ignored the first part of her question completely, _he is just worried, Arya._

Before she could ask what he was worried about said rider suddenly said, "Arya?"

"Yes?" she replied, turning to look at him as he lay on his bedroll, leaning against Saphira's flank.

"I think…, " he began hesitantly, " I think it would be better if you stayed behind tomorrow…" he held up his hand to forestall the protest that he knew was about to come. "Please let me finish Arya, you remember that dream I had about Alduin's return, almost a year ago?" She nodded immediately, eyebrows furrowed as she wondered the significance of that dream to the matter at hand. "I have been growing increasingly worried as to why had there been no ominous signs of said return… Accordingly, Paarthunax and Karliah had instructed their respective orders to keep their eyes and ears open to any sort of out-of-ordinary events." He paused, his mind turned inward as he thought…, "that letter that I received from Arngeir was about this… apparently the old one had felt a disturbing aura around this place…. Or rather some other dragons had felt it while flying over the area. They had alerted him and Arngeir dispatched three Blades here to investigate." He paused once again. "They haven't returned." Arya looked a bit worried after that revelation.

"Earlier today, when we were there, I was quite frankly, unnerved by the aura that seeped from the ruin… it felt bad on so many levels." _It was vokul… evil. _Saphira added.

"So?" Arya asked, eyebrows rising in a dare…

Saphira chuckled at that…Eragon simply shook his head and muttered "Stubborn mule-headed elf…"

Arya got up and moved over to sit beside him, snuggling into his side as she had done so many times over the last two months. Eragon simply wrapped his arm around her shoulders so she could rest her head on his.

_You don't want to risk my life and are asking me to stay out of it, right? _She asked the Rider.

He nodded. _That is very sweet of you… but do I have to remind you that I am NOT a human woman?_

The rider and dragon both chuckled, saphira's sides thrumming with mirth… they didn't need any more of that.

_Besides,_ _how do you think I would feel if you went in there alone and hurt yourself, and I couldn't do anything to help you? Would you stay back if our roles were reversed and it was me going inside? Hmm?_

Eragon had no answer to that. _Alright, you can come but you will do exactly as told, right?_

She nodded, _I promise. _Eragon relaxed on hearing that, and squeezed her shoulder. _Then let us sleep, we have to be up before dawn._

She kissed his cheek before returning to her bedroll.

* * *

Eragon was regretting his decision to allow Arya to come more and more as he stepped farther into the ruin.

_No use realizing that now little one. _Saphira chided him as she flew far above them, beyond the thick roof of the underground chamber. Eragon knew that if required, she could dg her way in but it would take far too long…. At best, she could atleast provide some distraction.

The entrance area had been full of cultists of some manner, they were not pleased nu his and Arya's sudden appearance through the main doors, which had opened rather noisily. The battle lasted for a few minutes with him and Arya weaving through the enemies effortlessly, each sword strike or shield bash meaning death for yet another cultist. When only one was left, Eragon sheathed Brisingr and gestured Arya to do the same… He returned his attention to the cultist and tried to get a few questions answered. The cultist committed suicide.

Now, they were both crouched low and invisible. His Nightingale armor had the enchantments already built-in… while Arya's black form-fitting leather armor had been a gift from Rhunon… Eragon had made sure that it had the same enchantments…as a result Arya was invisible as well, although it took more effort from her.

Eragon was on a raised platform, lying flat on his stomach, with Arya mirroring him to his left.. They were looking at a wide Hall that had been transformed into living quarters for the cultists. Directly opposite to them was a circular opening in the stone wall with stairs leading down and beyond.

There were several beds, about thirty five to be precise…. A dozen or so cultists milled about doing inconsequential things. Several lit braziers meant that the space was well lit and awash with warm light… not exactly conducive for stealth attacks.

_This could prove to be troublesome… _Eragon said. He thought that Arya was smirking from the way her mind felt, but then again, she was invisible.

_We could simply sneak past them, invisible as we are, we would be near impossible to spot. _She suggested.

_We could, but then we would have enemies at our back… not much f an issue, unless we face an insurmountable foe inside and we have to flee… what, do you suppose, we would do then? _Eragon teased.

Arya bit her lower lip she hadn't thought that far ahead.

_What do you suppose we do, then?_

_We quietly kill as many as we can…. If one of us gets detected, then we fight them openly. But first of all…_

He whispered a spell and the braziers dimmed, as if they had consumed their fuel before fizzing out. To make sure that his deception was foolproof, he cast another spell which silently vanished the firewood, dumping them in the entrance chambers. One by one, all the braziers were extinguished plunging the hall into darkness. Eragon then cancelled his invisibility spell and asked Arya to do the same.

"Antony, you blundering, miserable excuse of a man! I thought that I had told you to refill the goddamn braziers!" one cultist shouted at another.

"I had!" the other protested.

"Then how the blazes they aren't burning any more? Two men go below and bring some firewood from the stores below! NOWW!" The man bellowed.

_I can't see, _Arya whispered.

"_Laas" _Eragon whispered his voice barely audible to even Arya's elven ears. Then he shared his Aura Whisper across their mind-link.

_Now we swiftly kill as many as we can, but daggers only! Bows and swords are far too noisy._

She nodded, eyes hard and determined. She had come a long way from her first 'kill' but the thought of taking so many lives filled her with regret.

_As it should…_ Eragon said to her. She could feel his regret as well… he regretted taking lives as much as that she had to kill… and then he was gone; he had donned his hood and had pulled up his cowl, covering all of his face, except for those blue eyes. And then, he stepped back and melded in the darkness.

Below the cultists held aloft several werelights, tiny islands of reddish light in a sea of darkness.

Eragon and Arya started from one end, with Eragon slitting the neck of a man with his dagger as the other hand muffled his voice. Arya killed her victim with her bare hands, grabbing the woman's head between her hands and snapping her neck. She prevented the body from hitting and the floor and dragging the body into the shadows.

Eragon had meanwhile dispatched two others by then and his efficiency at killing unnerved her.. As she moved to her fourth victim, the man noticed her at the very last moment, too late to do anything but let out a scream of fear as Arya's dagger found his spine.

* * *

Eragon cursed silently, that man had just blown their cover.

_Its fine, now all that they know is that there is something in the shadows that is out to get them. Start mixing your killing methods, kill with a dagger, then impale another with an arrow, finish off a group with a fiery explosion… it will send them into a panic. _Eragon said

Arya acquiesced and recovering her bow from her back, stared snapping arrows at the cultists, each one flying true. Every now and then she could see blue streaks of lightning as Eragon killed cultists, the energy sizzling the unfortunate victims.

A few moments later, silence pervaded the whole room and the stench of burnt flesh and spilled entrails hung in the air. Eragon glanced at Arya to ascertain her feelings after the death of so many. As an elf, killing another being was abhorrent to Arya… In fact, the first few times, she had thrown up violently and had lost several nights to nightmares. Eragon had helped her to the best of his abilities, suggesting her to find peace within as he had with his flute. She had found it eventually in meditation and ever since then, the nightmares no longer plagued her.

Eragon was both pleased and saddened to see Arya almost shrug it off… Pleased as a mentor that she had found peace and saddened as a dear friend that she had to face such horrors. As Arya realized what was going on in his mind, she gave him a small smile and privately resolved to have a chat later on. Eragon smiled in return and gestured at her to follow him deeper into the ruin…

As they traveled further in, Eragon's anxiety increased exponentially… that aura that he and Saphira had felt seemed to simply keep getting stronger and stronger and no end seemed in sight.

The tunnel passed through several old burial chambers where the ancients had been embalmed in the Atmoran tradition… Some of these 'draugr' as they were known had been awakened and needless to say, were hostile. Eragon and Arya took care of them relatively easily but that damned aura kept increasing in its strength and was making Eragon jumpy. And something that makes a Dovahkiin jumpy isn't a good thing. Saphira began to have some dark suspicions about the ruin and Eragon prayedthat she was wrong.

But alas! She wasn't wrong (really Eragon should have known better)… Eragon and Arya had found themselves at the end of their path in front of two massive iron doors. Opening them, Eragon's breath caught and he froze…

In front of them was a long wide low ceilinged hall with beautiful, intricate carvings on both walls… Eragon stepped in, disbelievingly and Arya followed. The air thrummed with energy and gone was the dank musty smell that had pervaded the tunnel behind them.

Several lit braziers cast plentiful light around the room and in their glow the wall carvings seemed eerily _alive._ They were clearly visible as were the dragon runes that were carved underneath.

"Eragon, what is this place?" Arya asked.

"This is the Hall of Stories…" Eragon replied, his proud deep voice reduced to a mere whisper in awe.

"What?" Arya's eyebrows shot up, "but that means…."

"Aye, we're in the tomb of a Dragon Priest!"

* * *

_**A Cliffie, yay! What do you think? Write a review!**_


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